Hunter
by Johnno
Summary: The Hunter Saga, a story that brings together two vastly different worlds. Set in the SWAT Kat universe and our own with the occasional crossover.
1. Hunter

Greetings to all fans of the Swat Kats. This is my first fanfic. Please note this in any flames that you send. A few points to remember. 

1) Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is owned by Hanna Barberra. Which in turn is owned by Ted Turner, the same man who recently donated US$1.25 BILLION DOLLARS (over four years) to the United Nations! 2) Tim Hunt is owned by me. Please inform me if you wish to use him 3) As Tim hunt is an Australian, he pronounces some words differently. For example Lieutenant is pronounced as _LEFT_tenant and his rank would be Flight LEFTtenant. 4) All flames and praise can be sent to Mark Johnson at rodj@mrbean.net.au or 

Hunter By Mark Johnson 

Deep in the Nevada desert lay a top-secret military base. It's official name was Area 51 a base where the military would make incredible new super weapons and improve existing ones; a base where the impossible was made possible, a base where crazy ideas became hard reality. 

To the people who worked there it was known as Dreamland. 

It was a normal day in Dreamland. In one of its many hangers sat an aircraft, a heavily modified F-22C Raptor. Fully armed and fuelled, it would today make its final test run using the new technology that would make its younger brother, the F-22A seem outdated. To its pilot it was a great honour to be selected for this mission. 

For the pilot, flying an experimental aircraft was nothing new; he had done it many times before and would do it again. But to Flight Lieutenant Tim Hunt, an Australian test pilot, to be chosen over other American pilots to fly an aircraft that he had only read about, and (before last month,) was only simulator graded in, today was a very special day indeed. 

Tim had just finished putting on his flight suit when the base commander, General Douglas Drybeck entered the pilots' locker room. "Can't you read General?" Tim asked as his commander limped over towards a bench that was in the centre of the room. 

"Tim, you know that getting a star on your shoulder gives you certain rights and privileges one of them is ignoring some signs, another is busting you down to private" "Don't you mean an Aircraftman sir?" "Whatever. Sign this" The general handed Tim a clipboard with a single piece of paper attached "What the hell is this?" "An organ donor form. You forgot to sign it when you entered Dreamland" 

"General if I have an accident, I would seriously doubt that you can work out my blood type, let alone recover any useable organs," Tim joked as he signed the form. "And now if you will excuse me General, I have flying to do" Tim said as he took his helmet and flight harness from the open locker and left. 

General Drybeck smiled and closed Tim's locker. He knew from past experience that Hunter, Tim's flight name, performed better if FtLt. Hunt was otherwise occupied with a trivial matter. Chuckling softly to himself, General Drybeck was having trouble believing that something so simple as signing a fake form would make the required impact for the better. The General now knew that only an act of God could stop the testing of the new and improved F-22 for Project Whisper. And that wouldn't happen while he was overseeing this project. 

Meanwhile in another dimension..... 

At the MegaKat City salvage yard two bipedal felines were working in their modest two car garage. Chance Furlong, the larger of the two, was helping his friend, Jake Clawson, repair the car belonging to the deputy mayor. "I wish Callie would just give up and buy a new car, Jake" 

"Affirmative, but..." Jake never got to finish his sentence as a klaxon was heard throughout the entire garage. Chance went over to a nearby phone that was secured in its own wall case "Yes, Miss Briggs?" he asked "T-Bone, Dark Kat is at the MegaKat central bridge and is creating some sort of vortex" "Say no more Miss Briggs. We're on our way" 

The two mechanics ran down to the hanger hidden beneath the garage. Donning flight suits and masks they stopped being Chance and Jake and instead became T-Bone and Razor, The _SWAT Kats_ 

Back on Earth..... 

Tim had made his way towards the tarmac were his aircraft waited for him. He caressed its sleek, black lines as if it were a champion racehorse. "Beautiful is she not, sir?" one of the ground techs asked. Tim only nodded in reply as he put on his helmet. 

When Tim put on that helmet he took the name Hunter- the English translation of Jager, a name that several German pilots had given him. Jager was a tag that suited Tim's flying style. Expertly tracking down his targets and making the quick kill, in the skies he was deadly. 

Hunter made his way into the cockpit of his Raptor, pushed the button labelled start-up and the aircraft began its systems check and start-up procedures, displaying them on the left VDU. Idly he read them as they were displayed, taking the time to make sure that his helmet and mask were on properly and that a small cassette player was strapped to his right thigh, a practice he adopted after watching the movie _Iron Eagle._ 

BATTERIES TO POWER TURBINES TO SPEED INTERNAL POWER TO ENABLE STARTING INTERNAL POWER ANTI-GRAVS ENABLED ANTI-GRAVS ENGAGED TARGETING SYSTEMS TO ENABLE DOWNLOADING NAVIGATIONAL DATA.....DONE UNDERCARRIAGE RAISED HAVE A NICE DAY!! 

Hunter smiled at the last line, he always did. Taking to the air he quickly gained the necessary altitude and made his first radio transmission of the test. "Whisper 1 at angels 10, nosing over. Requesting vectors" he told the controller. 

"Whisper 1, proceed to waypoint 0-1" "Roger that, proceeding to waypoint 0-1" Hunter flew to the first waypoint in under a minute. The red earth reminded him of the Australian desert. For a brief moment he thought that he would never see his homeland again but quickly dismissed it as a case of pre-mission nerves. "Whisper 1 to base, Hunter is at waypoint 0-1" "Confirm Whisper 1. Hold position" 

Using the gravity repulsers Hunter stopped in mid air. The repulsers, linked to the navigational computer, altimeter and the thrust vectoring nozzles in the wingtips and fuselage, allowed less than 5 centimetres of movement in any direction. They also had the advantage of letting Hunter fly as slow as he wanted, (since the wings weren't needed to provide lift,) and do other things such as VTOL manoeuvres or even fly backwards. 

Presently his radio crackled to life. "Hunter, this is Drybeck. Start your run" "Roger that, starting run on my mark. 3-2-1-Mark!" 

Hunter's mind drifted back towards the pre-flight briefing.... 

"In this stage of testing the F-22 will go through tactical, navigational and weapons manoeuvres" Drybeck said addressing the briefing of the department heads. "Without servicing in between" 

This brought looks of shock from most of them, except Tim, who nodded silently. "Gentlemen, you all know that for the Joint Chief's of Staff to approve this project, certain....obligations must be met. One of them is an aircraft that is low maintenance; the other is that this bird must be able to outfly anything in the sky. We know that the F-22 can outfly aircraft that could be used against us, but there may be times when it may not be possible to service aircraft in-between missions. Operation Desert Storm taught us that" 

Drybeck went on to give Tim and the department heads sealed envelopes with their individual mission details, so they didn't know what each other was going to do and more importantly, so Tim couldn't find out what opposition he was to expect. 

Meanwhile in MegaKat city..... 

"Back off SWAT KATS, this is Enforcer business" "Yeah, whatever, Feral" was T-Bone's cocky reply "Your Enforcers don't seem to be able to handle it. And what about that vortex? Does anybody know what it is or what it's doing" 

"Never you mind. The Enforcers can handle this" "ER...T-Bone. Much as I hate to admit it, Feral's right. The only thing Dark Kat has done is stop traffic" "Krud...your right, Razor. I'll set up a holding pattern. When Dark Kat makes his move, we'll get him" 

Inside the Fearship that Dark Kat was using as a transmitter for the creation of his portal, creepling were pointing towards a monitor and chattering excitedly. Dark Kat calmed them down with a wave of his paw "Patience my creeplings" he said in his deep and majestic voice "Soon we shall be able to open the portal and send the SWAT KATS into another dimension, and MegaKat City will be mine!" 

Going back to earth...... 

"Is that the best you can do, Charles?" Hunter said with his usual faint Australian accent to Major Charlie Wilcox, the commander of the Surface to Air Missile batteries that should have 'shot' down the F-22 as it made its Run. Unfortunately the SAM sites were up against a target that was radar invisable, moving at under 200 Mph at under 100 feet- not the best set of calculations for the computers to work with. By the time the computers had the correct firing solution, Hunter was out of range of the first SAM and was using his electronic jammers in combination with some risky low altitude manoeuvres and the natural stealth design of the Raptor to avoid the others. 

Hunter was feeling good. So good in fact that he switched his mike from 'Intercom' to 'transmit' so that the crew back at Dreamland and the crew that he had just humiliated could hear what he was about to do. Placing a cassette into the player he said over the mike "If you think that was good, you ain't seen nothing yet." With that Hunter pushed the play button and the sound of BTO's 'Ain't seen nothing yet' was heard over the airwaves as Hunter went into the second phase of the test. 

The second phase of testing was simple- fly through the canyon as fast as you can using all the resources at your disposal. This was an exercise that Hunter had done many times before but he was uncertain as to whether the guidance and navigational systems would hold after what he had put them through when he had given the SAM sites the slip. But this is why he was a test pilot, to find out what the aircraft could take before it went into active service. 

"Engaging Supercruise mode" Hunter said as he went to full throttle. Supercruise or exceeding the speed of sound without the use of afterburners was a relativity new concept in aviation and was incorporated into the F-22 during its initial design stage. Now Hunter was using it to see if the guidance and navigational systems could take the strain of performing at such high levels. 

"Hunter, what the hell do you think your doing?" came Drybeck's worried voice "Just testing the guidance and navigational systems, sir" "If you stay at those speeds you might have to test the ejection systems, too" "You say the nicest things" Hunter said sarcastically. Drybeck let the sarcasm go. He knew that Hunter was just letting of some emotional steam "You're going to be hitting some crazy weather patterns soon-" "How soon?" "Soon!" "When the Hell's that?" Hunter was getting upset. Strange weather patterns in canyons have been know to throw jets against the canyon walls and were not to be taken lightly. "10 seconds, present speed" was the reply 

Drybeck didn't have time to say that he would sooner lose a state-of-the-art $158 million dollar test aircraft than one of his pilots. Instead his attention was drawn towards the dimensional radar image of the canyon were Hunter was flying. Hunter would hit that weather pattern at over the speed of sound after taking a sharp corner. If Hunter had any sense he would abort his run while he had time. Otherwise the F-22 would smash into the canyon wall and kill Hunter instantly. Drybeck glanced at the digital clock that hung on the wall in the command centre. Hunter had only eight seconds left. 

In the dimension where Kats fix cars..... 

Dark Kat smiled his evil smile "When the SWAT Kat's make their next pass I will fling them into another dimension and then I shall rule MegaKat city" He then laughed. One of the Creeplings started it's mindless yapping, breaking Dark Kat's mirth. "What is it, my Creepling?" he asked with noticeable surprise in his voice, when he saw the readings. Something was coming through the portal. 

"Razor, this is getting boring" "I know T-Bone, but..." Razor's console began to sound an alarm "What the-, T-Bone something is coming at us. Fast!" "Krud! What is it?" "It's smaller than the TurboKat, and travelling at almost 800 mph" 

In the Canyon..... 

Hunter was just about to enter what looked like a storm cloud, but at 5,000 feet and in the Nevada desert Hunter thought that was unlikely. He decided to report in "Whisper 1 to control. Entering atmospheric anomaly. Will report on exit, see you on the other side!" In the command centre, Drybeck swore. 

Hunter flew into the anomaly, which looked like a dark, swirling cloud, and was pleased to see that his instruments were functioning within normal parameters. Suddenly he experienced a total systems shutdown, an event that could only happen when a power surge caused the circuit breakers to trip, thus stopping the flow of electricity to the instruments and protecting them from damage. 

Because of this, Hunter was out of control, beginning to lose altitude and his body felt like it was on fire. As Hunter lapsed into unconsciousness he had a sudden thought that he was going to die wearing blue, the most dignified way for an officer in the RAAF to go. 

MegaKat City..... 

The dimensional portal that Dark Kat had created had become unstable as an unknown body moved through it. Muttering curses Dark Kat decided that the best tactic was to make a frontal assault upon the Enforcers and leave in the confusion. Swiftly he executed his plan. 

The Katizens of MegaKat City watched in shock as Dark Kat's Fearship began to rise and move towards the line of Enforcers. Many of the Enforcers started firing while others, who were closer to the Fearship fell back towards a more strategic position. 

Hunter's plane then decided to make its entrance. 

Hunter was dimly aware of a sensation of falling. Opening his eyes he noticed that _HE_ was falling. Struggling he attempted to regain control of his aircraft before realising how futile the action was. With the power out the fly-by-wire controls were inoperative and thus Hunter was gliding out of control at 5,000 feet at just over the speed of sound. 

While he was contemplating his fate, Hunter noticed that his forward motion had suddenly stopped. Exhausted, he passed out. 

"Well Razor?" T-Bone asked as he gently placed the strange aircraft in a nearby park "Do we help them?" "Negative T-Bone" Razor replied "We've got to check out that jet" "Right, I'm going in" 

The TurboKat landed next to the F-22 as the Swat Kats began to examine the Raptor's strange lines. 

"T-Bone! I've found the pilot!" Razor called to his companion "Is he alive?" "Can't tell" Razor answered as he examined the canopy further. Finding the release leaver he gave it a sharp pull and the canopy popped open. "I'm in!" 

T-Bone scrambled from the tailfins to the nose of the Raptor and helped Razor open the heavy canopy and get his first look at its pilot. "He's a Swat Kat" T-Bone exclaimed, for indeed Hunter's blue flight suit and red harness looked like the Swat Kats uniform. Hunters' face was obscured by his helmet, with its visor and air mask making identification impossible. 

Razor undid Hunter's air mask and raised his visor. When he had done this he looked in shock at the pilot of the strange plane. Curious as to what had spooked his partner T-Bone had his first look at the mysterious pilot "Kats alive!" he exclaimed "It's me" 

At the Dreamland Command centre..... 

"Any word from Whisper 1?" Drybeck asked to whoever was listening. Someone was, "Nothing as yet, Sir. Search and Rescue hasn't reported in" "I want to a full report within the hour!" "Sir!" 

MegaKat Park..... 

Hunter was beginning to regain consciousness. He could hear two voices- one was called T-Bone, the other Razor. 

'They're interested in the Raptor and _MY_ condition' thought Hunter 'Pilots, they must be pilots. Probably Search and Rescue' 

"Razor, he's coming around" he said to his partner, T-Bone addressed the unknown pilot "Hey buddy, what's your name?, rank?" "Hunt, Timothy Warwick. Flight Lieutenant, Royal Australian Airforce. O117456" Hunter replied weakly. 

He then opened his eyes and saw T-Bone. "WHAT THE...!" he yelled as he reached for his sidearm only to be stopped by an unseen hand. Striking with his right hand he punched T-Bone, knocking him to the ground. Then, still using his right hand, he pulled Razor forward while rolling his left shoulder at the same time. The effect- Razor unconscious from a shoulder jolt to the jaw and a service issue sidearm drawn on T-Bone. 

"Now, my turn to ask the questions. Who are you, and where am I?" "My name is T-Bone; the guy that you just knocked out is Razor. You're in MegaKat City" T-Bone answered carefully. Whoever this Kat was he acted like he had never seen another Kat before. Something wasn't right. 

"You said your name was-" T-Bone was interrupted a crackle from Hunters portable radio. "All Enforcers, this is Lieutenant Commander Steele. An Unidentified Flying Object from Dark Kat's portal is reported to be in MegaKat Park. You are ordered to destroy it at all costs" 

"I'm Flight Lieutenant Tim Hunt" Hunter said to T-Bones unfinished question "And I'll be leaving know, before your Enforcers try to turn me into atoms" 

As the canopy closed Hunter could see the look of confusion on the cat-like aliens face "The airframe is indestructible" Hunter said in lieu of an explanation. When the canopy closed, he reset the circuit breakers and began his first manual start in this aircraft. 

Hunter began to talk to himself as he began the manual start-up procedures "Batteries are to power, turbines to speed, internal power enabled, A-G's enabled and engaged, targeting systems enabled, navigation -is stuffed-, undercarriage -was never lowered-. Now let's see if this bird can still fly," It could. 

On the ground Razor had just regained consionness and saw T-Bone run past him to the TurboKat 

"Come on Sleeping Beauty" said T-Bone "We've got to save that pilot from the Enforcers" "Are you sure T-Bone?" Razor asked as he struggled to catch up. "We may have to save the Enforcers from that pilot" "What makes you say that, sure-shot?" "Call it a hunch" replied Razor, jerking his thumb in the general direction of the sky. 

High above the grounds of MegaKat City, Lt Commander Steele was trying to shoot down the UFO that was the F-22. Hunter was having the time of his life outflying the slow and bulky helicopters. Unfortunately his luck ran out when he was boxed in by several buildings, what appeared to be a news crew and about thirty armed 'choppers. 

Hunter hovered while he made the decision- to fight or to run? Steele made the decision for him by opening fire. Bullets from Steele's machine-gun pods ricocheted harmlessly off the armour that made up the airframe of Whisper 1. When it appeared that the Enforcers had expended their ammunition Hunter returned fire with his 20mm cannon, in one sweeping arc he had sent the vast majority of the Enforcers either down or returning to their base to rearm and refuel. 

Hunter spun the Raptor around, and came nose-to-nose with the meanest aircraft he had ever seen. Hunter recognised the pilot as the Kat that had called itself T-Bone. He tried to make contact. "Whisper 1 to unidentified aircraft, what are your intentions?" T-Bone just rolled 10 degrees left then 20 degrees right then back to level, a manoeuvre known as a wing waggle, the international 'follow me' signal for pilots. Hunter mirrored the manoeuvre, the sign of agreement and followed the TurboKat out of the city. 

Briefing room 6, Dreamland..... 

"Report" barked General Drybeck "Search and Rescue reports that they haven't found any trace of FtLt Hunt or Whisper 1. Radar hasn't been able to lock onto the F-22's transponder signal or IFF codes" "Inform the Head of the Joint Chief's of the situation. That is all" 

MegaKat City..... 

"T-Bone what the hell do you think you're doing?" Razor asked as the TurboKat made its way towards its hanger with the Raptor following close behind. "Razor, remember when we accidentally got stuck in that crazy dimension where we were the bad guys? I think that this Kat is from another dimension that is similar but with one major difference" "Kats aren't the dominant lifeform" Razor said realising what T-Bone was getting at "And if we can get him to talk back at the hanger-" "-We can find a way to get him home" 

The trio made its way towards the hanger with T-Bone demonstrating how to make a safe landing while Hunter didn't land until he had entered the hanger, hovering a foot above the ground until he found a suitable place to park. 

Hunter was in shock; part of his rational mind had shut down in an effort to preserve his sanity. Acting only on instincts that have been drilled into him from an early age, Hunter act's in the only way that he knows how. He stays cool calm and collected, ready to take whatever action that is nessacary no matter what the outcome. For the moment, Hunter tries to make himself at home. 

Hunter reached behind his seat and grabbed his flight bag. He then walked towards the set of lockers at the far end of the underground hanger, finding an empty locker next to the one marked with the initials T.B on its door. After storing his helmet and harness Hunter -now Tim Hunt- placed his gloves next to his helmet. 

As Tim stored his gloves he looked at his hand. It resembled an animals paw instead of a human hand. Instinctively he took his signal mirror from his harness and examined his face. It looked strangely like T-Bones. Tim glanced at the two Swat Kats who where now in civilian clothes and almost unrecognisable. 

'What on earth happened to me?' thought Tim 'It's clear that I'm not on the same world. Maybe that weather anomaly was a kind of trans-dimensional gateway'. A memory of an old university paper appeared in Tim's mind. That paper was written by three mathematicians, Einstein, Rosen and Podalsky; it stated that mathematically there are an infinite number of alternate universes and how to travel to them. The paper was written after the failed Philadelphia experiment. 'But that still doesn't explain what happened to my hand and face' Tim was to scared to change out of his flight suit and into the drill uniform that was in his flight bag, for fear that his body had also mutated into something other than human. 

Could these animals have cracked the code and found the unknown variables that three of the greatest minds of recent time could not do? Tim's mind boggled at the thought. Turning towards T-Bone and Razor he asked "What did you say your names were again?" 

"I'm T-Bone and he's Razor" T-Bone replied indicating to himself and Razor respectively. T-Bone and Razor. In Tim's mind those names held a great meaning for him. "T-Bone and Razor" Tim said deep in thought "Your real names are Chance Farlaine and Jake Carlson, right?" Razor looked open mouthed at his partner. Although the strange kat had got their names wrong, the names that he had said were close enough to get them worried. 

"What makes you think that those are our names?" Razor asked casually "Because those are the names of the pilot and his weapons officer that won both the Top Gun and Red Flag trophies last year. Chance and Jake were their real names. They're the first team to beat the USAF best pilots that fly Tigers, Eagles, Falcons and every other aircraft in the US inventory. They are the best team I have ever seen, in any airforce" 

"We're flattered, but our last names are Furlong and Clawson. What's yours?" Tim smiled "Hunt, Tim Hunt" he said extending his hand/paw T-Bone Smiled "What's your callsign?" he asked, grasping the offered paw firmly 

"Hunter. I don't suppose that you could tell me about your world?" Razor smiled "Only if you tell us about yours?" "Deal!" 

************************************************************************ 

Commander Feral was furious. First those Dammed Swat Kats made an Unwelcome Appearance. Then a strange flying object appeared out of the vortex causing Dark Kat to attack his Enforcers. That idiot Steele nearly got a third of the Enforcer 'choppers destroyed when the UFO returned fire after Steele attacked it. And to top it all off the UFO flew off with the Swat Kats. It was going to be one of those days. 

There was a knock at the door. Feral's expression softened slightly as his niece entered the office. "Uncle, we could track the TurboKat while it was in the city centre, but when it left the built up area, well...." Feral nodded, it was the same story. After the Swat Kats left the radar net that the Enforcers set up to keep track of their own 'choppers, the TurboKat always managed to avoid the air traffic controllers at MegaKat Airport. To make matters worse the UFO was radar invisible, casting its radar 'shadow' over the TurboKat making it even harder to track. 

************************************************************************ 

In the hanger Jake, Chance and Tim were working on the Raptor and discussing the various differences and similarities between the two universes. while the only work needing to be done on the TurboKat was a simple refuel and it would be flight-ready, the Raptor needed to be re-armed, re-fuelled and have its systems serviced. 

"So Tim, you're a pilot and an aeronautical engineer?" Chance asked in disbelief "Yeah, only officers are pilots. Before I went to flight school I was given a full scholarship to the Australian Defence Force Academy, where I studied for my degree in engineering" Tim winced internally, knowing that his life before joining the airforce would have to remain a secret. For their sake they couldn't know that he was an Assassination Bureau operative. 

"Hear that, Jake?" Chance asked the figure half immersed in the inner workings of the Raptor's navigational systems "You've just been replaced!" "Very funny Chance" Jake replied with notable sarcasm "I would like to know who designed these circuits" "I did!" "Your kidding me!" The look in Tim's eyes told Jake that he wasn't "It was designed with the back-up systems to be almost as powerful as the main" Tim explained as his eyes widened in shock when he saw what Jake was about to do. 

With speed gained from years of experience Tim leapt forward and grabbed the soldering iron that Jake was using. As the slight smell of burnt fur filled the hanger Jake cried out in surprise at Tim's action and speed. Chance spun around and saw the soldering iron in Tim's paw and Jake trying to regain his breath. 

"What happened?!" Chance asked Tim "Jake was going to solder a loose wire without removing the thermite charge first" Tim replied with a surprising amount of calm "I just stopped him. Nothing serious" "Nothing serious!" Jake said finding his voice "You grab a hot soldering iron from my paw before I can even blink! You could have been badly burnt!" "If you had moved that soldering iron another few centimetres, that would be serious" Tim retorted "How could a soldering iron be serious?" Chance asked as he examined Tim's paw "The heat from the soldering iron would have set off the thermite, turning the circuits into a burnt cinder" Jake said dumbfounded "And I don't think I can find a replacement on this world" 

Chance finished examining Tim's paw, finding the fur only slightly scorched. "Is there anything else that we should know about your jet and equipment?" he asked with a slight grin "Yeah" Tim said offering Chance a hammer "hit it!" "You can't be serious!" Chance looked into Tim's eyes and saw that he was "Okay, it's your jet" Chance struck the Raptor's fuselage and its skin remained unblemished. Surprised Chance hit the fuselage with all his might and was again surprised to see the hammer crack and the skin of the Raptor unblemished "H..How did that happen?" Tim smiled "Trade secret" "We gotta get some of that 'trade secret' so I won't have to keep buffing out all the dings Chance puts in the TurboKat" 

The trio laughed at the last statement and continued working of the Raptor, "You guys take a break while I work on the armaments, and I'll tell you exactly what this bird can do!" "You're on " 

************************************************************************ 

Deep in the sewer systems beneath MegaKat City a sinister shadow began to shake with laughter "Yesss, thisss new development might work to my advantage. But I mussst work quickly" The shadowy figure then disappeared into the sewers, laughing occasionally. 

************************************************************************ To Be Continued..... 

"Why do people take an instant dislike to me?" "Saves Time!" 


	2. True Colours

Greetings to all fans of the Swat Kats. This is my second fanfic please note this in any flames that you send. A few points to remember. 1) Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is owned by Hanna Barberra. Which in turn is owned by Ted Turner, the same man who owns the Atlanta Braves baseball team! 2) Tim Hunt is owned by me. Please inform me if you wish to use him 3) As Tim hunt is an Australian, he pronounces some words differently. For example Lieutenant is pronounced as _LEFT_tenant and his rank would be Flight LEFTtenant. 4) All flames and praise can be sent to Mark Johnson at johnnosk@hotmail.com 

True Colours By Mark Johnson. 

Chance and Jake sat open mouthed with half finished cans of milk in their paws. Tim had just finished explaining to them what the Raptor could do (knowing that it would excel the conservative limitations that he had stipulated). While Tim was enjoying the look on the SWAT Kat's faces the alarm sounded. 

"Callie's calling!" said Chance as he ran towards the phone on the wall. "Yes Miss Briggs?" he asked. Tim waited patiently as Chance took note as to what 'Miss Briggs' was saying. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him and he was about to make a polite inquiry as to who the mysterious 'Miss Briggs' was when Chance began the SWAT Kat equivalent of the mission briefing. 

"Jake, Viper and friends are at MegaKat Biochemical. Suit up!" "I'm gonna tag along!" said Tim "NO YOU'RE NOT!!" the SWAT Kats said in unison as they climbed into the TurboKat and performed the required start-up procedures. Within seconds they were off. 

Tim moved to cover as the TurboKat screamed by. When the TurboKat left the Hanger, Tim's eyes fell on the flight suit that he was still wearing, with its various badges indicating his squadron, country and rank. Other objects included his nametag and flight wings, two things that shouldn't be seen by this world's inhabitants. 

Making a split second decision Tim ripped off the badges that identified him, removed his nametag and wings and went to T-Bones locker. Inside the locker Tim found what he was looking for, T-Bones spare helmet, bandanna and gloves. Putting on the commandeered items on he became the SWAT Kat _HUNTER_. 

Hunter ran the short distance towards the Raptor and performed its start-up sequence. 

BATTERIES TO POWER TURBINES TO SPEED INTERNAL POWER TO ENABLE STARTING INTERNAL POWER ANTI-GRAVS ENABLED ANTI-GRAVS ENGAGED TARGETING SYSTEMS TO ENABLE DOWNLOADING NAVIGATIONAL DATA.....DONE UNDERCARRIAGE RAISED HAVE A NICE DAY!! 

In an instant Hunter was in the air and tracking the TurboKat as he flew towards MegaKat City. 

MegaKat Biochemical..... 

T-Bone and Razor had just made their first pass over MegaKat Biochemical and assessed the situation, only to have massive vines shatter the windows of the upper stories and attempt to grab the TurboKat. 

Under T-Bones expert control the TurboKat avoided the deadly plants, sustaining minor damage to the horizontal stabilisers. "Krud!... Razor, what's the damage?" "Not good buddy. We've suffered some damage to our left stabiliser and we're losing hydraulic fluid. Not fast but I'd like you to hurry up and get this over and done with ASAP" "You're right, that's not too bad but it's still not good. I'm going to call Hunter" 

T-Bone never got the chance. Before he could make a call the TourboKat's radio came to life. "SWAT Kat two to SWAT Kat one, SWAT Kat two to SWAT Kat one. T-Bone, you there?" Hunter said over the radio. T-Bone laughed. He should have known that he couldn't ground a test pilot. 

Opening the radio frequency he replied "SWAT Kat one receiving, what's up Hunter?" "My navigational data is useless in this world. I need the vectors to your position" 

T-Bone complied, giving Hunter the appropriate altitude and heading. When Hunter had the information he did some rough calculations and told the SWAT Kats of his ETA. 

Thirty seconds later, it was time to party. 

************************************************************************ 

Inside MegaKat Biochemical labs Dr. Viper noticed that the Raptor had just flown by on an observation flight before its main attack. "I musst work quickly," Viper muttered to himself as he gathered up variously selected chemicals. "That alien mussstn't interfere in my plansss. Time for my petsss to keep him occupied." Viper signalled his 'pets' to attack the Raptor. 

Hunter's radar had detected several small objects inbound towards his position. Glancing around he saw what his radar had picked up. Ten of the biggest wasps that Hunter had ever seen, outside of his nightmares, were making their presence known by shooting the Raptor with their projectile like stingers. 

As the stingers bounced harmlessly of the Raptor's armour, Hunter quickly reconfigured his Heads Up Display for Air-to-Air combat and started evasive manoeuvres so that he could get into position to fire on his attackers. 

Hunter tried to out-manoeuvre the aggressors but found that they were just as manoeuvrable, if not more so, than the Raptor was. Trying a different tact, Hunter engaged Supercruise mode. He planned to put several kilometres between him and the wasps so he could then fire one of his missiles into the centre of the swarm and hopefully disable a few of them. 

The SWAT Kats could then deal with the situation while he made an attack run on MegaKat biochemical. 

Unfortunately for Hunter, the wasps had other ideas. The swarm had ceased its pursuit of the Raptor and instead had turned and attacked the Katseye News 'Chopper. Inside the News 'Chopper, Katseye News Anchorkat, Ann Gora was doing a live News cross on the current situation and its recent developments. 

Not knowing exactly what was happening in the News 'Chopper or the status of its occupants presented Hunter with a dilemma. Should he attack the swarm of giant wasps or attack his primary objective? Hunter decided that the safety of civilians, whether they got themselves into trouble or not, took priority over any military objective. 

Arming an AIM-9N Sidewinder, a short range heat seeking missile, he targeted the 'Chopper at the centre of the swarm. Once Hunter had achieved a lock he cried out the immortal words that every human pilot wishes to hear "Fox two!" Once said Hunter fired, sending the missile on its dangerous mission. 

As the missile snaked towards its target, Hunter armed the Sidewinders internal self-destruct system and waited until it was just 30 feet away from the 'Chopper before he ordered its detonation. 

The fireball from 12Kg of high explosive travelling at twice the speed of sound headed towards the 'Chopper. It incinerated several wasps while injuring others, causing them to shift their attack back to the Raptor, an attack that Hunter had prepared himself for. 

************************************************************************ 

Meanwhile, outside MegaKat Biochemical Dr. Viper observed the air battle and laughed to himself, "Yesss, my plan is working perfectly!" he said to himself. So involved in his mirth, Viper failed to notice two displeased SWAT Kats, and a hastily recruited lone Enforcer, standing behind him. When he eventuality turned around his face made a pleasing *CRUNCH* as T-Bone made his feelings known about what Dr. Viper's plants had done to his beloved TurboKat. 

"Book 'em" T-Bone said as he and Razor went into MegaKat Biochemical. Stunned, the enforcer did what any good enforcer would do. He arrested the mutated (and mad) Doctor. 

Inside the corridors of MegaKat Biochemical the SWAT Kats made their way towards the eighth floor with a combination of stealth and caution, but T-Bones thoughts were somewhere else. "What's up, Buddy?" Razor asked, worried that his partner's mind wasn't on the job at hand "I just hope that Hunter can take care of himself with those bugs while we take care of Viper's vines" T-Bone replied. 

"Don't worry, T-Bone" Razor said casually "I've got a feeling that he's enjoying himself." On one of the lower levels the sound of glass breaking could be heard "Mater of fact, I'm sure of it!" T-Bone noticeably relaxed. He had been concerned for the safety of a fellow pilot and now that he knew that he was in no danger T-Bone could concentrate on the task at hand. 

************************************************************************ 

Without warning the Raptor made a sharp turn away from a nearby window. Unfortunately for the mutated insect that was in hot pursuit, it went through the window. Hunter took a deep breath as he scanned the horizon and his radar. He relaxed as they both showed clear. On his left VDU he activated his RWR or passive radar, on his right VDU, an inventory of his stores including fuel. Hunter got a surprise on both counts, his RWR found an aircraft on a nearby roof, an area that the computer in his active radar would have ignored, and that he had just over half a tank of fuel left, less than he had expected. 

Slowing down to a very slow (for a high performance aircraft) 100 mph and altering his course he flew over the building and saw that the helicopter he had rescued from the mutated wasps had suffered some blast damage and was forced to put down. Landing beside the 'Chopper, Hunter departed from the Raptor and ran towards disabled vehicle, attaching a small stick-pin to his collar, ready to lend assistance if required. As he neared the 'Chopper, Hunter noticed that there was black smoke around its exhaust. The engine was seriously damaged. 

Before Hunter could ask if they needed any help a female Kat stuck a microphone in his face and began asking questions. "Ann Gora, Katseye News," she said, "I'd like to ask you a few questions" 

In the she-Kat's eyes, Hunter could see a mixture of caution and apprehension. Caution of the unknown SWAT Kat and his weaponry, and apprehension of his reactions to having a microphone shoved in his face. 

As a pilot and test pilot, Hunter has had his fair share of media attention and having all manner of recording equipment shoved in his face was nothing new. But being interrupted in the middle of an interview by the local law enforcement was a first for both Hunter and Ann. 

In the mind of Lieutenant Commander Steele, this arrest would get him back in favour with Commander Feral. After the alien aircraft had disabled a Quarter of the Enforcers 'Choppers, Feral had ordered that when the Raptor was spotted all 'Choppers where grounded until it had landed or left the area. 

When the Raptor touched down, Steele commandeered a 'Chopper. Flying in the Raptor's blind spot, directly behind and beneath the F-22, and using visual tracking, instead of radar, Steele had managed to sneak up on Hunter. 

When Hunter had left the Raptor and ran towards the news crew, Steele made his move. "Attention unidentified alien!" he began over the 'Choppers loud hailer "This is Lieutenant Commander David Steele, MegaKat City Enforcers. You are under arrest. I order you to place your paws on your head" 

Hunter briefly considered firing on the 'Chopper with his sidearm, but rejected the idea. With some hesitation, Hunter placed his paws on his head, "Who is that guy?" he asked Ann in a low murmur "He's one Kat that I wouldn't give an interview to!" She quipped "But in reality, he's the Enforcers second-in-command" "And the Enforcers are..." Ann gave Hunter a strange look for a second before she remembered that he was, literally, from another planet. "They are the ones responsible for maintaining law and order" 

'Law and order' Hunter thought 'Then there is a good chance that their Commander could be a member of the bureau. Then....' Hunter's thoughts where interrupted when Steele roughly grabbed his shoulder and slapped a set of pawcuffs on his wrists, without informing Hunter of any rights that he might have or telling him why he was being arrested. 

Johnny, Ann's cameraKat, thinking on his feet, caught the entire incident on camera. When Hunter and Steele made their way towards the waiting 'Chopper Ann turned to her cameraKat, who gave a small nod, and smiled smugly. 

Steele herded Hunter towards the awaiting Enforcer helicopter and roughly shoved him inside, making sure that Hunter's helmet hit the side of the 'Chopper. Steele laughed his annoying, and nasal, laugh at Hunter's discomfort. Hunter decided to play his 'Trump' card "I request to see the Commander of the Enforcers" "You'll see him after we've finished with you" Steele replied without turning his head 

Hunter allowed a smile to cross his face. He had done all that he was required to do; now he could act on his own initiative. With a twist of his wrists he released himself from the Pawcuffs. Free of his restraints, Hunter reached underneath his flight harness to the throwing knife that he kept there. 

Sliding it from its sheath, he examined the blade for any signs of imperfection. Because of their small size, throwing knives were designed to kill, not intimidate, and Hunter didn't want to kill Steele. At least not yet. 

"Are these yours?" Hunter asked tossing the 'Cuffs into Steele's lap "Why yes, they are" Steele answered not realising that, if those where his pawcuffs, it's captive would be free. "Good, this is mine!" Hunter placed the knife's blade against Steele's neck "Now. I would like you to take me to see the Commander of the Enforcers" he requested, sweetly. 

Steele could only nod, nervously. 

************************************************************************ 

T-Bone had just polished off the last of Dr. Viper's mutated vines when he received a transmission from Miss Briggs. Touching the side of his helmet where his radio transmitter was hidden he made his reply. "Yes, Miss Briggs" "T-Bone, Steele has arrested the alien. They're probably on their way to Enforcer HQ at this moment" "I copy that, Miss Briggs. Do you know where he parked his aircraft?" "It's on the roof of MegaKat Mutual Insurance. Why do you need to know that?" "I've got an idea" ************************************************************************ 

Steele's 'Chopper landed on the rooftop helipad of the Enforcer's HQ where Commander Feral was waiting. Feral had been informed earlier by both Ann Gora and Deputy Mayor Callie Briggs that Steele had 'forcibly detained' the alien. He had originally waited on the roof to see if the allegations made by Miss Gora and the Deputy Mayor were true. What he saw surprised him. 

Instead of Steele restraining an alien, he saw a SWAT Kat with his paw against his second-in-command's neck leading him along the roof. As the pair made their towards the Commander, other Enforcers that were stationed on rooftop duty drew their weapons and advanced cautiously. The only thing that prevented them from turning Hunter into ashes with directed energy fire was the simple fact that, in doing so, they would also kill Commander Steele. 

Not that killing the little weasel was a bad thing. 

As the duo neared Commander Feral he noticed the small stickpin on Hunters collar, the same pin that the Commander was given several years ago. "Release him!" Feral ordered. When Hunter complied he was rushed by some the of surrounding Enforcers while others kept their weapons trained on him. 

Once Hunter had been successfully restrained a second time, Feral had him taken to his office. He would talk to the alien later, after he had dealt with Steele. 

************************************************************************ 

T-Bone piloted the TurboKat to a perfect landing on the roof of MegaKat Mutual. When the engines had finished winding down, T-Bone ran towards Hunter's sleek aircraft. 

"And what do you think your doing, buddy?" Razor asked his partner "I'm going to take the Raptor for a spin. Why do you ask?" "Are you sure that you can even fly that thing? Its systems are different from the TurboKat" "Don't worry, sureshot. If it has wings, T-Bone can fly it!" "O.K, but if you get yourself killed, I'm never speaking to you again!" 

T-Bone smiled at the stupidity of Razor's last comment and proceeded to climb into the Raptor's cockpit. His eyes widened in surprise as the many differences between the two aircraft's interior hit him with full force. 

The first major difference was the flight control systems. Unlike most aircraft that had the control yoke, or flight stick, sitting between the pilots' legs, the Raptor had its stick sitting on the pilots' right hand side. This arrangement made T-Bone feel vulnerable and exposed. 

The other thing that surprised T-Bone was the lack of switches. Most of the Raptor's systems were computer controlled and as such only a few essential systems had manual overrides. After several seconds of visual searching T-Bone found what he was looking for, a red button encased in a plastic shell, labelled 'START-UP'. 

When T-Bone pressed the button the Raptor's cockpit sprang to life, one by one systems activated themselves. T-Bone's attention was drawn to the left VDU where a readout of the aircraft's systems was being displayed. 

BATTERIES TO POWER TURBINES TO SPEED INTERNAL POWER TO ENABLE STARTING INTERNAL POWER ANTI-GRAVS ENABLED ANTI-GRAVS ENGAGED TARGETING SYSTEMS TO ENABLE DOWNLOADING NAVIGATIONAL DATA.....DONE UNDERCARRIAGE RAISED HAVE A NICE DAY!! 

T-Bone involuntary smiled to himself. If this aircraft was all Hunter had said it was, he would be having a very nice day. With unsteady movements, the Raptor achieved flight, turned and crawled towards the Enforcer's HQ, steadily gathering speed as its pilot's confidence grew. 

Razor's heart was in his throat as he watched the Raptor lift off the roof of MegaKat Mutual. Once Razor was sure that the Raptor wasn't going to crash in the immediate future, he ran towards the TurboKat and climbed into the pilot's seat. 

In the unfamiliar territory of the pilot's seat, Razor took a couple of seconds to steady himself and remember where the controls were. Also to remember their exact function. When he had performed his check of the pilots' controls, the TurboKat unsteadily followed the course of the Raptor. 

************************************************************************ 

Hunter did another circuit of the Commander's spacious office. He had removed his restraints at the first opportunity that presented itself, wishing that he would soon be told why he was being detained. Just then Commander Feral walked through the door. Without a word he walked to his desk. He pulled out an identical pin to the one that Hunter wore on his collar 

"Would you mind telling me who and what you are?" he asked, presenting the pin to Hunter. Taking the pin and examining it closely, Hunter found it to be identical to the one that he was wearing. Stunned he made his reply. 

"Delta two nine, level 2" Hunter replied giving the identity and rank that he was given during his time with the Assassination Bureau. It was Feral's turn to be stunned, "L-L-Level 2!" "That's right, Commander" Hunter replied, sensing that he had a superior rank "Your Identity please" "Omega one eight seven, level 1" Feral said meekly. It was one of the few times that anybody had any real power over him. 

Hunter smiled inwardly. In the Bureau, he outranked the commander, by a long way. "I require your assistance, Omega one eight seven" Hunter said in a way that meant that it wasn't a request. It was an order Feral brightened slightly "What do you need?" "A life" 

Smiling Feral wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Hunter. "Go to this address anytime tomorrow. They have the facilities and equipment that you need" Feral checked his watch "Jake and Chance should be here in that dam jet of theirs soon" Hunter gave the Commander a '-who-are-Jake-and-Chance-' look. Feral noticed this and informed Hunter that he had known who the SWAT Kats were ever since they had first arrived. 

************************************************************************ 

On the Rooftop runway of the Enforcers' HQ the few Enforcers that stood guard received their second shock of the day. T-Bone had misjudged his approach to the runway and ended up several meters beneath the runway's overhang. 

By altering the Gravity Repulsers so that a field of negative gravity surrounded the F-22, he made the aircraft rise. The sight of a sleek, black aircraft rising up from beneath the runway surprised some Enforcers and scared others, but they all had the same thought: MORE ALIENS!!. Reacting purely on self-preservation instincts they opened fire on the Raptor. 

To his credit T-Bone didn't panic when the Enforcers opened fire. Calmly he piloted the Raptor to a smooth touchdown on the runway and opened the bulletproof canopy and told the offending Enforcers to hold their fire. 

Upon seeing that it was a SWAT Kat instead of another alien, started to yell abuse at the offending SWAT Kat, who in turn yelled at then with equal fury. 

High above the runway Feral and Hunter watched the exchange of words between Enforcer and SWAT Kat. Feral noticed a bright pink plastic note being waved in his face, "What's that?" he asked "Five bucks say's that T-Bone wins the fight" "Done!" A fight eventually started and the SWAT Kats won. Twice. 

************************************************************************ 

The flight back was uneventful, T-Bone and Razor in the TurboKat followed by Hunter in the Raptor. When they landed, all hell broke loose. 

"O.K Tim" Chance began "What on EARTH do you think you were doing?" "Would you believe, my job?" Tim replied, wishing that he was somewhere more pleasant, like one of the seven pits of Hell "Your job? Your job is to stay low until we decide what can be done with you. Your job is not, and I repeat, NOT to get yourself arrested. What if Feral puts two and two together and finds out who we are?" 

Tim looked at his booted feet. "He knows" he said softly Chance found that he had lost the ability of speech. Seeing this Jake took over Tim's interrogation "Tim what do you mean by 'he knows'?" "What can I say? He knows. The bastard knew who the SWAT Kats were the instant that you two showed your faces" "How did he know that? How did he know who we are?" "Because he works for the same people that I do" 

By this time Chance had regained the use of his voice. "He works for the RAAF?" "No, the Assassination Bureau" 

************************************************************************ To Be Continued..... 

"Hunter, you stink" "You wear a flight suit for five hours and I'll see how you smell" 


	3. To Arms! To Arms!

Greetings to all fans of the Swat Kats. This is my third fanfic please note this in any flames that you send. A few points to remember. 1) Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is owned by Hanna Barberra. Which in turn is owned by Ted Turner, the same man who owns the Atlanta Braves baseball team! 2) Tim Hunt is owned by me. Please inform me if you wish to use him 3) As Tim hunt is an Australian, he pronounces some words differently. For example Lieutenant is pronounced as _LEFT_tenant and his rank would be Flight LEFTtenant. 4) All flames and praise can be sent to Mark Johnson at rodj@mrbean.net.au or johnnosk@hotmail.com 

To arms! To arms! By Mark Johnson 

T-Bone was stunned "Assassination Bureau? What do they do?" "Well, we kill people" Tim answered as he striped off his flight suit and began looking through his flight bag. As he was about to take something out, T-Bone stopped him. 

"Tim, what do you think you're doing?" he asked with suspicion "Just getting my spare uniform, mate. Do you want to check it out?" Tim replied, his Australian accent growing thick with fatigue "No Tim, I'm just a little on edge" T-Bone replied, releasing Tim "So. How many have you killed?" "108 confirmed kills with 32 possible, that's not including guard dogs. This is over 10 years, though" Tim said as he changed into his drill uniform, which was the same drab green as Chance and Jake's coveralls, and made his way up the ladder that linked the hanger to the salvage yard, tucking his gun into his belt as he did so. 

Stunned with this latest development T-Bone and Razor changed out of their flight suits and into their mechanic's coveralls, unsure of what to make of the mysterious alien. When they had reached the top of the ladder they found Tim looking through that day's newspaper. 

"Find anything interesting?" Jake asked, smiling "Kat-Mart is having a sale" was Tim's dry response. Looking at his watch Tim did some mental calculations "Take-off was at 0900; I'd have flown for about an hour when I hit that cloud and ended up here. Time is 1800 hours. I wonder what the General is doing right now?" 

************************************************************************ 

The Pentagon, Washington DC Earth 

In the Pentagon, the nerve centre of the United States military, a top secret meeting between the Joint Chief's of Staff and General Drybeck on the disappearance of Flight Lieutenant Tim Hunt and his F-22C was taking place. 

Although it had been eight hours since FLTLT Hunt disappeared and the sun had already set, the Joint Chief's were alert and ready to take whatever action was required. 

"Doug, are you saying that your pilot flew into a storm cloud and just disappeared with a 158 million dollar aircraft?" asked the Army Joint Chief of staff General Robert Meyers "That's right, Bob. The F-22C and Flight Lieutenant Hunt just disappeared, and I have no explanation. Except to say an 'Act of God'" 

"Have you considered that this _Foreign_ pilot has stolen our latest aircraft and is planning to return it to his country?" a voice asked from one corner of the table. 

Drybeck eyed the intruder and then turned his attention back to the Joint Chief's "Who the hell's this?" he asked, jerking his thumb towards the man at the end of the table "Doug, this is Mr. Smith," Meyers said with a mixture of laughter and annoyance "He's from the CIA." "And it appears that you don't know very much about FLTLT Hunt, if that is his real name," Smith began. "We have intercepted several letters from Hunt to someone called 'Duck-hole 18' and he signed them 'Duck-hole 29'. Can you explain that, General?" 

Drybeck chuckled to himself, then burst out laughing. When he had calmed himself enough to speak, he faced the CIA agent. "Oh Boy, are you a dickhead! Duck-hole is the radio name for RAAF Edinburgh, if you had done your research you would know that it is the same base where he is stationed, and as for the numbers 18 and 29 are simply a way of identifying each other over the radio. Most Australian pilots use their radio names in everyday conversation" 

"Then why don't they use their callsigns?" Smith retorted Drybeck was about to answer when the Joint Chief of the United States Air Force General Anthony Pembroke silenced him with a reassuring look. "It's because, you poor excuse for a spy, Australian pilots don't have callsigns!. They only have radio names. Hunt's callsign was given to him by his fellow pilots. In the United States!" 

"Then what about the his last radio message then?" Smith asked, his unflappable attitude slipping slightly. "He refers to himself as 'Hunter' and...." "Mr. Smith, I know more about Tim Hunt than you will ever know. The only reason that you have a job is because he did his," Drybeck said silencing the CIA man. "Now. Get out this briefing before I have you thrown out." 

Mr. Smith was about to protest when two marines appeared next to him, leaving him no choice but to be escorted from the briefing. "God, that guy gives me the shits.." began Drybeck "Then general, I suggest that you get more fiber in your diet" Drybeck turned towards the strange voice. "It's been a long day and I'm very tired, boy. Give me one reason why I don't have you shot" "I have Flight lieutenant Hunt's file.." "So have I" "The unabridged version" "Sit down. Now!" 

************************************************************************ 

Tim tried with some success to eat the pizza that Chance had ordered, though not being used to having such sharp teeth, he was making a small mess of it. Both Chance and Jake were having a hard time keeping straight faced, and failing miserably. 

"Having trouble, Tim?" Jake asked, breaking into a smile. "What do you think? You Kats have it easy, you where born like this," he said pointing to his body. "Humans are omnivorous, our teeth are adapted for grinding up plant matter as well as meat. I'm just not used to having a mouth full of razor blades" 

Chance burst out laughing at Tim's poor attempt to save face and after a few seconds Jake and Tim joined in as well. "I think we should find you some salad." Jake said as he tried to contain his mirth "I think we should see who just entered the yard!" Tim replied chuckling Chance immediately sobered "What do you mean?" "Come with me!" Tim replied, standing 

Calico Briggs entered the still open salvage yard; she had called earlier in the day but she could only reach the answering machine. She has had many terrifying experiences dealing with the many criminal elements of MeagKat City, but having a gun placed at her head was new to her. 

"Would you please identify yourself," an Australian accented voice asked from behind. Before she could answer she heard Chance call out to her unknown assailant. "It's OK Tim, we know her." Instantly the gun was removed from her head. 

"Miss Briggs. This is Flight Lieutenant Tim Hunt, Royal Australian Airforce" Chance said indicating to Tim "Tim. This is Calico Briggs, Deputy Mayor of MegaKat City" Callie turned and faced her assailant, and the first thing she noticed wasn't the uniform nor the fact that he was blushing slightly at his mistake. The first thing she noticed was that Chance and Tim where almost identical in physical appearance. 

"Are you two related?" she asked "Yes, we are" Tim answered, thinking fast "Chance is my cousin" 

************************************************************************ 

The Pentagon, Washington DC Earth 

Drybeck was only slightly stunned at what he had read in Tim Hunt's file. What he read was a detailed account of Hunt's activities from the time his parents and brother where killed in a car accident to when he took off that day. The file had explained many things about Hunt's personality that, otherwise, would have remained secret. 

"Where the hell did you get this?" Drybeck asked the mysterious man, who had started to smoke a cigarette, "And why are you showing this to me?" "So you will write off the loss of your precious aircraft and discontinue your investigation into the disappearance of Flight Lieutenant Hunt" "Are you threatening me?" Drybeck asked in a low growl "Merely advising you, General" With that final comment, the cigarette smoking man left. 

Drybeck looked around the table. "Gentlemen, what do we do?" "It appears," Admiral Victor Green began "That this person is playing hardball. And you all know what happens in the Navy when somebody plays hardball. Don't you?" "Batter up?" suggested Pembroke "Exactly! This is what we're going to do" 

The conspiracy had begun. Now all they need do was wait for Hunt to contact them. 

************************************************************************ 

In the office at the garage Chance couldn't believe his ears. He listened to Tim tell Callie about himself and his past, a past that was being made up as he was talking. The amazing part was that Callie was believing it. She believed the part about Tim being Chance's cousin, about the family tradition of being pilots and several other questions that Callie had asked. 

Presently Jake walked in and handed Callie the keys to her car and proclaimed it to be fixed. Chance breathed a quiet sigh of relief, until Callie asked the question that know-one wanted to hear. "Where were you guys today?" she asked "I phoned but all I got was your answering machine" Chance and Jake had blank looks on their faces but Tim came to their rescue "They've been with me since" Tim looked at his watch "About 1000 hours" Callie looked thoughtfully at Tim "What time is it now?" she asked "2020 hours, ma'am." 

"What was so important that you could keep two civilians occupied for ten hours?" "Well, I was trying to get my gun through customs when they found it. Customs officials detained me while they contacted the consulate, the consulate gave me diplomatic immunity." Tim smiled slightly. "As you would know, the wheels of diplomatic business turn very slowly. Chance and Jake where waiting in the airport lounge for me" 

"Tim, you said that you had some official business to take care of" Jake said, in a testing tone. "I did" 

Callie made her way towards her car with Chance. She opened the door and leaned on the roof and asked Chance the impossible question, thinking that she was out of Tim's hearing range, "Chance, what's the real reason your cousin is here?" "Stress leave" Chance replied, saying the first thing that came to his mind. "He clipped his wingkat while on exercise, nearly killing them both" "That's terrible, but why is he here?" "I'm his nearest relative" "When does he go back?" "Hopefully, very soon" Chance said truthfully 

After Callie had left Tim walked in and tapped Chance on the shoulder. When Chance came down from the ceiling he glared at Tim. "Stress leave?, Clipped my wingman? You've stepped in it this time, Chance" "Sorry, Tim. But it was the first thing that came to mind" Chance said in his defence. 

When Jake walked in Tim, decided to let the matter drop; Chance had done his best at very short notice which Tim acknowledged. "People" began Tim, which got him strange looks from both Chance and Jake. Correcting himself Tim continued "Kats, tomorrow is going to be a big day and I think that we all should get some sleep. Where can I bunk?" Jake smiled "Try the couch" 

************************************************************************ 

The Pentagon, Washington DC Earth 

"Tony, are you sure you can have those munitions at Pearl Harbour in time?" "They should be. Your boats are going to transport them" "Shut up, flyboy!" "Go walk a plank!" Drybeck started to laugh. Whenever you put Anthony Pembroke and Victor Green they would trade insults until they turned blue in the face, but they got their work done. And fast 

************************************************************************ 

Tim had slept fitfully for almost three hours, a small record on his part. Checking his watch Tim found out that it was approaching midnight. Restless, he did what he always did at such times - work. Specifically, work on why his navigational data wasn't compatible with this world. 

Making his way down towards the hanger Tim formulated his plan of action. By comparing his own navigational data with the SWAT Kats, and by using Greenwich as his frame of reference, he should be done in less than an hour. 

All he had to do was link up his navigational computer in the Raptor to the computer in the hanger and let the two compare data. Smiling Tim put his plan into action. 

Tim did a quick visual scan of the hanger, and smiled as his search paid off. Taking the starter-cart from its place near the TurboKat, Tim wheeled it over to the Raptor. After manually opening the starboard access port and plugging in the starter-cart, Tim started the Raptor's internal systems. When the systems had started, Tim then took the Navigational Data Pod from the TurboKat and connected it to the Raptor's own NDP and told them to compare data, displaying each set of data on an individual VDU. 

While the two NDP's compared their information, Tim ran his hand over the serrated edge of the Raptor's cockpit, remembering the technology that makes an F-22, F-117 or a B-2 radar invisible wasn't in it's avionics package, instead its in the actual design and composition of the aircraft's skin. Including the use of serrated edges on the compartments, access ports and on the edge of the cockpit. 

Tim looked back along the wing and saw the 'Stars-and-Bars' insignia of the United States Air Force and realised that if the USAF logo was still visible then his name and rank would still be visible on the left side of the cockpit just beneath the LexGuard canopy. 

Muttering things about the heritage of the person who gave the Raptor it's paint job, Tim set about to remove the various identifying marks that sat upon its skin. Taking his knife Tim first carefully cut a rectangle around his name and callsign. Digging the point of the knife under the paint on one corner of the rectangle, Tim easily peeled back paint revealing the glossy black armour of which the Raptor's airframe was composed. 

Tim stripped off the top of his drill uniform as he proceeded to remove the rest of the Raptor's paint in the same manner. It was going to be a long night. 

Chance awoke with a start. He checked his watch; it was past midnight. In the pit of his stomach he had a feeling that something was very wrong. Making his way towards the hanger Chance happened to glance at the couch where Tim was sleeping, except for the fact that Tim wasn't there. Concerned Chance continued on his way towards the hanger. What he saw surprised him. 

Standing topless and covered in sweat, Chance watched Tim as he peeled back the dark paint that covered the Raptor, revealing it to be a glossy black bird-of-prey. Chance took a pace forward and stepped on a small nut, hearing the almost inaudible sound Tim spun around and drew his gun and had it aimed at Chance before the Swat Kat knew what had happened. 

"Halt!" Tim challenged. "Take it easy, Tim" Chance replied, moving away from the ladder and giving Tim a clear shot. "I was just wondering what you where doing down here." "Just removing the Raptor's markings" Tim said, pointing to the unfinished tail section Chance looked at the Raptor's tail and asked "What dose WH1 mean?" "Whisper one. That's the project I was working on at Dreamland when I found myself here" "How did get to be called 'Whisper'?" 

Tim sat down on the wing. "In the late seventies, a British scientist theorised that if you played sound waves that was the opposite of what was being produced, they would cancel each other out. He called it Anti-Noise" "Does it work?" "Listen to this" 

Tim manually started the Raptor's left engine and Chance covered his ears at the deafening racket, Tim then pressed another button and the racket changed to a low hum. "That's good!" Chance exclaimed "That's Whisper" "You sound like a commercial-" "-That reminds me" "How can you sounding like a commercial remind you of anything?" 

Ignoring Chance's comment, Tim continued "In MegaKat City, who would I go to see about quantum physics?" "Either Pumadyne or Professor Hackle. For you, Professor Hackle. He's helped the SWAT Kats out before and I think he could be just the Kat to see" "Good, lets go" 

Tim's reply caught Chance off guard. Surely he didn't expect to see the Professor now, did he? "Yes Chance" said Tim, reading Chance's mind. "We suit up and go now" Chance heaved a sigh and sensed that nothing he could say or do would change Tim's mind. "Come on, we'll take the Cyclotron. It shouldn't wake Jake up" "If Jake slept through that" Tim said, jerking his thumb at the Raptor "he could sleep through World War III." 

Jake's slumber remained undisturbed as the Cyclotron left the SWAT Kats underground hanger and sped on its way towards Professor Hackle's residence. ************************************************************************ 

U.S.S Enterprise CVN 65 Pacific Ocean 

The Enterprise's captain had just received a transmission 

******** FLASH ******** To: Captain, U.S.S Enterprise CVN 65 From: Commander, Pacific Fleet Subject: New Orders 

Message: Captain, matters of a global importance have forced the Joint Chiefs to instate General Order 256. General Order 256 takes effect immediately. 

Commander, Pacific Fleet 462D3232 2C205469 6D204875 6E743A20 48554E54 4552 

"What do we do, sir?" the watch commander asked "General order 256 says that we have to lend any assistance required to foreign pilots flying American aircraft. I think this is a security test, nothing more" 

When the watch commander had left the Captain took the codebook from the safe in his quarters and with it he translated the HEX code attached to the end of the message into something more readable. 

Translated the message read 'F-22, Tim Hunt: HUNTER'. Now the Captain knew who to expect and what he would be flying. The Captain also knew that all US military bases worldwide would have received the same transmission and came to the same conclusion. 

Something big was about to happen involving an operative called Tim Hunt, and that was all he needed, and wanted, to know. 

************************************************************************ 

Professor Hackle was working late when he saw the Cyclotron pull up on his Monitors. Flicking a switch he opened the security door to his workshop and continued his work. What he didn't notice was that the second SWAT Kat sniffed the air once, drew his gun and dived behind some old oildrums, using them for cover. 

"Hunter! What do you think your doing?" T-Bone asked, looking at his partner in confusion. "Getting some cover! Someone's using high explosives!" "How can you tell?" T-Bone asked, disbelief showing through his mask "I can smell C4 or Simtek H, they both smell like marzipan" "Come on!" growled T-Bone. 

The two SWAT Kats, one more cautious than the other, made their way to Professor Hackle's main work area. Hackle looked up from the project that he was currently working on and faced the T-Bone. "Ah SWAT Kat, is your courious friend the alien who visited our fair city this morning?" Hackle asked. 

"That's him, Professor" T-Bone said "But what is he looking for?" "He's looking for High explosives. Apparently he smelled some before" 

Tim was looking around the Professor's work area, sniffing the air occasionally and moving the odd piece of equipment. Then he found what he was looking for. Professor Hackle was making a cup of coffee and he was using a white substance to heat the water. 

"Found it!" Hunter called out as made his way back to T-Bone and the Professor, "Someone is using C4 to make coffee." "Yes, I was" Hackle replied. "But I couldn't smell anything," "T-Bone?" "Sorry buddy, nothing" 

Seeing that the new SWAT Kat was slightly annoyed with this news, Hackle tried to lift his spirits "What brings you here?" "I have a bit of a problem with some quantum physics. In order for me to return to my home dimension, the quantum frequencies must match." Hackle nodded "And your problem is..?" "We have no way of finding the right frequency" 

Hackle pondered this for a moment, "Do you have anything metal from your dimension?" Hunter looked at T-Bone, who nodded slightly. "Just my dogtags" Hunter replied, removing the two metal disks from around his neck. "These contain my name, rank, serial number and blood type." "What a pity that during the extraction of the quantum frequency they will be destroyed." "Yes, it is a pity" Hunter said, handing his dogtags to the Professor "But sacrifices must be made." 

************************************************************************ 

As T-Bone rode the Cyclotron back towards the hanger, Hunter asked him to pull over to the side of the road. T-Bone did as he was asked. 

"What's wrong, Hunter?" asked T-Bone as Hunter got off the Cyclotron and took a step back. "Have you ever heard of 'Culture Shock'?" Hunter replied, breathing heavily "Isn't that a rock band?" "No, that's 'Culture Club'. When your life puts you into a strange and unbelievable situation, it often takes some time for it to sink in, but when it does..." "Culture Shock!" "Exactly!" 

Several minutes passed, in which Hunter's breathing rate slowed to a safer level. "You OK now?" T-Bone asked, genuinely concerned. "I'll live, boss" "Don't worry, Tim" T-Bone began, ignoring Hunter's discomfort at the use of his name while in his SWAT Kat uniform. "We'll get you back to your home dimension soon" "That's easy for you to say, you didn't have to escort the General's niece to Las Vegas tomorrow!" Hunter said with a smile. "Now let's get back to the Hanger and get some sleep." 

T-Bone straddled the Cyclotron and asked Hunter, "Are you gonna hop on or are you walking back?" "Just promise me that you won't drive like an old Kat." That was the worst thing that Hunter could have possibly said. 

************************************************************************ 

At the Hanger T-Bone and Hunter were both greeted by an anxious Jake, dressed as Razor, completing the job of striping the paint off the Raptor. "Where have you two been?" he asked "At Professor Hackle's, discussing quantum physics" T-Bone replied, weariness evident in his voice, as he changed from his SWAT Kat uniform into his normal attire. Razor looked at Hunter for his answer. 

"Ditto," Hunter said as he also removed his flight suit. "Don't forget the ailerons and goodnight, Razor," he added as he made his way to the main level, with only one purpose in mind: to sleep. 

************************************************************************ 

The next morning, MegaKat City awoke in its usual fashion. The birds were singing, the kricket's were chirping and one mutant Kat was, for all real appearances, dead to the world. 

"Wake up, lazy bones!" Tim heard someone say as he felt a hand, no a paw, on his shoulder. "What time is it?" he asked, trying to shake the sleep from his head "Ten past seven," Jake replied, with a cheesy grin from ear to ear. "Why didn't somebody wake me?" "Because we didn't have the heart to wake you," Chance offered, handing Tim a bowl of breakfast cereal. "Eat this, today we have to get you some sort of life or your stay here could be real short." 

"And I know exactly where to go," Tim said as he handed Chance the slip of paper that Commander Feral had given him the previous day. "You up for it?" Chance cocked an eye as he pondered what was written on the paper. Thinking for a split second, he gave his answer. "Hell yeah! When do we leave?" "0700" 

Jake checked the wall clock "That was fifteen minutes ago!" "Then, we are late and I'd suggest we leave now!" Tim replied, taking his pistol from underneath his pillow and tucking it in his belt. "You're taking that!?" Jake asked, pointing to Tim's pistol. "I'm paranoid" "Your crazy!" Jake said as Tim was walking out. "I'm allowed to be," he replied as he opened the door to the tow-truck 

************************************************************************ 

The local office of the Assassination Bureau was nondescript, to say the least. In fact it was downright anonymous. A large building in among other large buildings in the heart of MegaKat City. 

"This is it?" Chance asked as he parked the tow-truck outside the building "Yep," Tim replied. "Let's go shopping!" "I wonder if they've got the latest issue of Kat Kommandos?" Tim stopped, almost causing Chance to walk into him "I'm not sure, but we can find out." 

Inside was just as nondescript as the outside; a single guard sat behind a large desk. Tim could see the glow of the black and white monitors and guessed that apart from the four cameras that he could see, there would be at least eight pinhole cameras concealed in the walls and roof. 

Tim knew that, although the guard looked as though he was paying more attention to the newspaper than to the two Kats walking past his station, nothing escaped his attention. Including the Bureau's stickpin on his collar. 

"Chance, meet me by the lift" "Lift?" Chance asked in confusion, not understanding Tim's Australian. "The Uh.. Elevator," Tim said as he made his way towards the guard. 

"Hey, mate," Tim Began, leaning close to the guard so he could get a clear look at the exact pattern on Tim's Bureau pin. "Do you know which level MegaKat publishing is on?" "No sir," replied the guard. "But there's a level directory next to the elevator." "Thanks, mate," Tim said as he turned away, going back to the elevator 

When Tim reached the elevator, the guard reached under his desk and flicked a small switch, allowing both Chance and Tim access to the parts of the building that were above the fifth floor. 

"Chance, this is where it gets interesting!" said Tim as the elevator doors opened for them. "It better be because it's been kinda boring so far!" Chance replied, stepping in the 'lift with Tim. Seconds later the doors reopened and the pair stepped out into another world. The world of the Assassination Bureau 

Chance was noticeably unimpressed by the banks of super computers, recording devices and other, smaller, pieces of equipment that were in constant use. But when Tim told him that it was all devoted to the creation of false identities, Chance let out a low whistle. 

"You mean that all this equipment is to create lives for Kats like you?" "Yep, here I can make up Drivers licences, Passports, military ID cards. Basically anything with a photo on it, we can make an exact copy. We also tap into bank and government computers and place records there." "You are kidding, right?" 

Tim gave the computer operator a sly look "Say Chance, did you know that you have an unpaid parking fine?" "WHAT!!" Tim pointed to the screen "It say's so right here" 

Chance looked at the screen; sure enough, an entry read 

Registered Owner: Furlong, Chance P Licence No: MKC 3141592654 Licence Type: A, B, C Offence: Parking in restricted area Date: 05-03-99 Fine: $25.00 

Chance stared at the screen for a second and realised that the date on the fine was wrong. "Wait on! That date hasn't happened yet." "That's right, Chance. But we can make that, or just about anything else, happen." "Can you tap into my bank and...?" "No, I can't, and won't, increase the amount of your bank account at MegaKat First National. But I'll give you credit for trying." 

"Sir," the computer operator began, "we've opened a bank account at MegaKat First National in your name. How much do you want?" Tim gave the matter serious thought "$1026.25 to start with and $389.22 a Week, payable every fortnight." 

The operator did some typing and imput the amount that Tim had specified. With just a few keystrokes a new identity was created. The identity had a name, a job, a bank account and a birth certificate. 

Placing the documents in a secure briefcase, Chance and Tim walked back to the elevator. "What's next?" Chance asked, still in awe, "Uniforms!" "Oh joy." 

Uniforms was putting it mildly; there was an entire level devoted to the military uniforms of many nations and several civilian organisations. Everything from air stewards and stewardesses to the uniforms of a dozen security companies around MegaKat City. 

To his credit, Tim knew exactly what he needed to keep his cover of a RAAF pilot on leave. Searching for something in his size, Tim bumped into the Tailor in charge of the Bureau wardrobe. 

"Terribly sorry...?" He trailed off. "Delta Two Nine" Tim answered. This got the Kat's attention. "What do you require?" "A uniform for a Flight Lieutenant in the Royal Australian Air Force." "Yes sir, I'll just take your measurements." 

Chance tried to contain his laughter at Tim's facial expressions as the measurements for his neck were being taken. Needless to say, he failed. 

"Sir, who is he?" asked the tailor, in annoyance, indicating to Chance "He's just a SWAT Kat" was Tim's reply The tailor remained silent as he took Tim's remaining measurements and collected the required items of clothing. 

Chance stifled a yawn as the final touches where being put on Tim's uniform. "Can we get back to the garage now?" he asked. "Soon, boss. Just a couple of things to do and then we can leave." "Where to now?" "The armoury, then the pits." "What's in the pits?" "Transport," "Great, and stop calling me 'boss'." "Right, boss." 

Chance decided to quit while he was behind. 

************************************************************************ 

Jake was going over the read-outs of the programme that he had found running last night; what he found was, to say the least, interesting. A large portion of California, running along the San Andreas Fault line, had disappeared into the sea, leaving only the highest hills above the waterline. 

One such hill was Anakata Island, formally part of a place called HOLLYWOOD, at least in Tim's dimension. Where MegaKat Central bridge stood, one of many in downtown MegaKat City, there was a canyon. 

This puzzled Jake, but when he thought about it, it was quite logical. If the United States of Tim's world had a larger landmass in that area, any rain would fall before it reached the mountains, making the land beyond dry, arid and incapable of supporting a population of any real size without help. 

Military style help. 

And with the military involved in an arid environment, away from populated areas, it would be the perfect testing area for experimental aircraft. It may also be a place where the SWAT Kat's could have their missiles developed and tested, but first they had to find the right dimension _and_ the right airbase. 

************************************************************************ 

Tim Smiled. When Tim smiled most sensible people ran for cover. Needless to say Chance didn't run for cover; Chance had the same smile on his face that Tim had on his. The look of a Kitten in a toy store. 

"Tim, where do we start?" Chance asked, looking down the rows and rows of weapons, ranging from small calibre handguns, sub-machine guns and assault rifles to bows and arrows and knives to grenade launchers and LAWS rockets. 

"I want to try them all!" "Sorry, boss. But I have everything worked out," Tim replied, oblivious to Chance's disappointment. Looking around "Now where is the Gunsmith?" he wondered out loud 

The 'Smith in question appeared from behind a rack of assault rifles. Only seconds previously he had stripped and cleaned a weapon before securing it in it's place. 

"Can I help you sir?" he inquired. "Here" Tim said, handing the 'Smith a list of what he needed. "How soon can we have it?" he asked as the 'Smith looked the list over. "I can get most of these now, but this one will take some time," the 'Smith replied, pointing to an item on the list. 

Chance recognised the entry and stood stunned, wondering why no body else had thought of that particular solution to the MetalliKat problem. 

"How long?" "I can have it here by this time tomorrow, if you're not in any hurry" "We're not. What about sidearms?" "9-mm I assume?" Tim nodded. "A small selection is waiting for you at the firing range." 

Tim thanked the 'Smith and walked past Chance on his way towards the Firing Range. Stunned, Chance was muttering something to himself. Tim could make out the words 'Armour' and 'Bullet' in Chance's disjointed speech. 

At the firing range a small selection of handguns lay waiting to be tried. All where 9-mm size and all had the slide pulled back with their breaches empty. Avoiding the Browning, Tim picked up the SIG P226, one of the four styles of SIG that were available. Inserting a fresh magazine and closing the breach, Tim prepared himself to fire. 

The Kat shaped paper target was the length of the building away, about 55-60 meters down the range. Putting on the required ear and eye protection, Tim took careful aim at the centre of the target's 'head', and fired. 

And missed the target completely. Adjusting the sights, Tim repeated the procedure, this time he hit the target high in the 'head'. Seeing this Tim adjusted the pressure by a minute amount and tried again. The result, a small hole in the centre of the targets 'head' 

Smiling, Tim fired repeatedly, emptying the magazine into the target. In a flash he ejected the spent magazine and replaced it with a fresh one, took aim at the 'chest' and fired until the second magazine was spent. When he had finished, Tim heard muffled applause through his hearing protection. 

Turning around he saw both Chance and the Gunsmith giving him a round of Applause. Retrieving the target, Tim noticed that his shots where clustered within centimetres of where he had aimed. From 50 meters it proved that he could still shoot. 

"I'll take this one" he said, holding the empty Sig for inspection by the 'Smith, as Chance replaced Tim's target with a fresh one and sent it back down the range. "What about the MP-5's?" "Your friend has the rest," the 'Smith replied as he handed Tim one of the sub-machine guns. 

Examining the weapon, Tim noticed that a sound/flame suppressor had been fitted to the weapon's barrel and the folding stock was locked away. Loading in the 30 round magazine that the 'Smith handed him, he closed the breach. 

Pausing for a second, Tim removed his hearing protection from around his ears to his neck, shouldered the weapon, sighted the target, and fired. The muzzle flashed as it spat out the muted rounds, that was drowned out as the empty shells hit the ground. 

"Quiet, isn't it?" Chance asked the Gunsmith rhetorically "Yeah, and it's one of the louder models." "Wha??" The 'Smith just smiled. 

After only a few seconds on full automatic the chamber locked back, the magazine was empty. Tim glanced at the target that Chance had set up only seconds before, the chest area that he was aiming for was peppered with 9-mm sized holes. 

"Are all the MP-5's weighted like this one?" he asked "They are" the 'Smith confirmed. "We'll take 'em." 

************************************************************************ 

"Are you happy now, Chance?" Tim asked as they drove back "I've got a life, bank account, uniforms, a nice car and enough firepower to blow Dark Kat into the next time zone. So why aren't you smiling?" "I didn't get to see the car" Chance replied with a slight frown "If we hurry, we could beat it home. Do you know any shortcuts?" 

Chance didn't make a verbal reply, instead he made a sharp right and sped along a dirt road, with Tim, who, because of Australian law wore a seat belt out of habit, hanging on for his life. "Tell me Chance, How many lives does a Kat have?" "Nine, why do you ask?" "I'm down to eight!" 

************************************************************************ 

Jake was having a weird day. First he discovered that the North American continent was noticeably different in his own world than in Tim's, then a sleek, black corvette that was loaded with clothing and military equipment arrived for Tim. 

The arrival of the 'vette had Jake stunned; the two Kats just left it parked outside the garage, handed the keys to Jake, told him the car was for Flight Lieutenant Hunt and left without another word. 

Finally. Chance arrived with Tim, who was looking greener than Dr. Viper and babbling 'Never again, never again' 

"Chance, what did you do to him?" "Nothing serious." "Chance!" "I just took a shortcut," Chance said, saying the last word under his breath "You took a what!!" Jake practically screamed "A shortcut, Jake, I took a shortcut." 

Jake looked at Tim, who had stoped babbling and now was trying to stop his paws from shaking. "Chance, I don't think he's been that scared in all his life," Jake said, throwing a paw in Tim's direction for emphasis. 

"Well, there was that time in East Germany, before the fall of the Berlin Wall...." Tim said from inside the garage. 

Chance looked at Jake, Jake looked at Chance, they both looked at the garage where Tim was. "Tim can you hear us out here?" Jake asked in a quite voice. "Yes." "Tim, how far is it from us to you?" asked Chance. "About 15 meters." 

15 meters was 14 meters too far for any ordinary Kat to hear. The answer eluded the two until Jake had an idea. Walking back to the garage and carrying on an animated conversation with Tim, Jake questioned his own sanity at doing this but his curiosity had to be satisfied. 

Tim had heard Jake walking towards the garage; this didn't disturb him for he had kept his hearing sharp as part of his Assassination Bureau training, but what Jake was saying put him on edge. Questions without any clear meaning or answer always made Tim nervous. While pondering Jake's strange line of questioning, the Kat in question calmly walked up unnoticed by Tim. 

"Hey Tim, do you mind if I try something?" "Nah, go ahead," Tim replied, turning to face Jake. And received a knife in the stomach for his troubles. Crying out, Tim acted on a combination of training and instinct; he pushed Jake back, grabbed his sidearm with his left paw, and began to try to remove the knife with his right. 

Upon hearing Tim's cry of pain, Chance ran from the new Corvette to the garage to investigate what was going on. When he arrived at the scene, Chance only saw the knife in Tim's chest and the gun that was being pointed at Jake. Jake for his part was being very calm about the whole situation. 

"Jake, what happened?" Chance asked softly "I was just testing a theory." "By STABBING HIM!" "You gotta admit, Chance. Jake had an interesting theory" Tim said as he removed the knife from his stomach "I just wish he gave me some warning before he tried to run me through" 

Chance couldn't stop staring at Tim and the absence of a wound that the knife would had produced if Tim had been a normal Kat. "H..How is that possible?" Chance stuttered, pointing to Tim's stomach and the knife in Tim's paw. 

"Chance Tim's a mutant, similar to the ones that Dr. Viper makes. He has supeiour hearing, he heals at an amazing rate and his blood is more acidic than our own" Jake said, examining the small knicks on the blade after Tim had removed it from his abdomen. 

"I'll bet you a can of milk that he's stronger, faster and has better eyesight than we do too," Jake concluded "He's probably right, Chance. But I don't want to be stabbed to prove a point" "Your right, Tim. But you did get the 'point' right?" Chance said with a smile. "Chance, SHUT UP!" Jake and Tim shouted at the same time. 

Laughing softly to himself, Chance made his way to the kitchen to rustle up something to eat for Jake and himself, figuring that after having six inches of steel in his gut, Tim would have had his daily requirment of iron. 

************************************************************************ To Be Continued..... 

"Your paranoid!" "T-Bone. Just because I'm paranoid, doesn't mean they're not out to get me!" 


	4. Going Home

Greetings to all fans of the Swat Kats. This is my Forth fanfic. Please note this in any flames that you send. A few points to remember. 1) Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is owned by Hanna Barberra. Which in turn is owned by Ted Turner, the same man who is married to Jane Fonda! 2) I own Tim Hunt and associated characters. Please inform me if you wish to use them 3) As Tim hunt is an Australian, he pronounces some words differently. For example Lieutenant is pronounced as _LEFT_tenant and his rank would be Flight LEFTtenant. 4) All flames and praise can be sent to Mark Johnson at 

Going Home By Mark Johnson 

Hunter hated night flying with a vengeance. Yet he knew that in order to become a SWAT Kat he needed to fly both the Raptor and the TurboKat with equal ease, in all weather conditions. 

"Razor, would you mind telling me why I'm up here, strapped to three jet engines with wings instead of being nice and safe and comfortable in my own aircraft?" "Because, Hunter," Razor began from his backseat, "You might actually have to fly these three engines with wings some day." "Terrific, I'm now expected to fly this heap of krud. I feel like I've been downgraded from test pilot to jet jockey." "You have" T-Bone said over the radio. 

"T-Bone, what aircraft are you flying?" Hunter asked, not really wanting to know the answer, "Yours," was T-Bones reply 

Beneath them an Enforcer jet was also doing a nighttime patrol, its pilot unaware of what was about to happen. The pilot was Lieutenant Felina Feral, and the last thing she expected was a knock on the canopy of her jet. 

"Hey Razor, what is that bogey at two o'Clock?" "That is an Enforcer jet. IFF says the pilot is.... Lieutenant Feral. She would be on patrol" "Oh goody!" Hunter said with a wide grin. "Razor, put your mask on and turn your receiver to intercom". "Why?" "I'm going to have some fun with the Lieutenant." 

Hunter flew above and matched speeds with Lieutenant Feral's jet. When he was directly above his target, Hunter rolled 180 degrees so that both he and Razor could look into the cockpit of the Enforcer jet without much difficulty. 

"Is this your idea of fun, Hunter" Razor complained as Hunter slid open the TurboKat's canopy and knocked on the Enforcer Jet's canopy. Lieutenant Feral looked around for the source of the strange knocking before realising exactly where the knocking came from. 

Looking up she saw the familiar silhouette of the TurboKat, and its pilot waving at her. "Do I know you?" she asked Hunter over the radio. Felina could clearly see Razor in the backseat and, although the pilot looked like T-Bone he wore a long sleeved flight suit similar to Razor's. 

"I'll be damned. The put down lines in this universe are the same as the ones in mine!" replied Hunter, still not identifying himself and moving from above Felina to her left wing. Felina however knew that it wasn't T-Bones voice, and Razor had not yet said a word, leaving: 

"You're that alien, aren't you?" "You where expecting Tom Kruise? What gave me away?" "The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you fly. Need I go on?" Felina said, smugness evident in her voice. "That depends on what you've got on" Hunter shot back, trying to keep the score even. 

In the second that Felina was thinking of a suitable reply a bulletin came over the radio. "ATTENTION ALL ENFORCER UNITS. ATTENTION ALL ENFORCER UNITS. UFO REPORTED OVER MEGAKAT CBD. ANY AVAILABLE AERIAL UNITS IN THE VICINITY ARE REQUESTED TO ATTEND." 

"Did you two just hear that?" Felina asked "I caught it" Razor answered "T-Bone, where are you?" "Port side, low" T-Bone replied. Hunter nodded at Razor as he made visual confirmation on the Raptor's position. "What's wrong?" "T-Bone, this is Hunter. We're going to change aircraft" "Why?" "Because this aircraft is a piece of junk. It's got speed and agility, but nothing else. If I'm going to investigate a UFO, I'll do it in my own aircraft. Got it?" "Not quite. Could you run that by me again?" "T-Bone!" "I'm doing it, I'm doing it" T-Bone mumbled as he deftly landed the Raptor on the roof of a nearby building. Hunter then landed the TurboKat on the same building and jumped out. As Hunter passed T-Bone on the way to his own jet he made inquires as to the readiness of the Raptors systems; the results where pleasing. 

Seconds later both aircraft, with their correct pilots, went hunting for a UFO. 

************************************************************************ 

"How do I get myself into these things?" the human pilot of the UFO asked himself as he circled around looking for where LAX should have been. Only hours before he was being briefed by General Drybeck on the route that Flight Lieutenant Hunt took on the day that he disappeared. In the hour before that he was wandering aimlessly around the corridors of Dreamland, wanting to help a fellow pilot yet unsure as to how. 

This was the how. Fly along the same flight path as Flt Lt Hunt did on the day of his disappearance in an F-15. The F-15 Eagle, being the same approximate size and weight as the F-22 and having similar flight properties, was the perfect candidate for the mission. Loaded with reconnaissance equipment and fuel on every available hardpoint, its pilot insisted on having a full 500 rounds in the 20mm Vulcan for 'self defence'. 

The pilot, Major Jade 'Jesus Christ' (JC to his friends) Callen, (so called when he was getting his pilots wing when the instructor muttered the famous phrase as he heard that JC was up for assessment - along with a few other choice words). JC was selected for his daring, tenacity and because all the other pilots stayed out of Drybeck's way. 

Instead of avoiding the General, JC walked directly into his office and demanded to take part in the investigation and possible retrieval of Flt Lt Hunt. That was less than four hours ago. In those four hours the ground crews at Dreamland had, from scratch, serviced, fuelled, and pre-flight an obsolete F-15C that had been new fifteen years ago. 

It seemed that the disappearance of Flt Lt Hunt was one of Dreamland's worst kept secrets, not that anybody cared. The number of people who wanted something to do with its investigation never ceased to amaze the General. When both pilot and plane where ready the recording devices where set and locked into the 'ON' position so that they would continuously record information, no matter what the circumstances. 

The mission started out perfectly. JC's run over the AAA and SAM sites went off without a hitch, high-speed entry into the canyon, no problem. Exit from the canyon, problem. 

When Hunter went through the first time, it was with the help of Dark Kat's machine. Then the vortex had become unstable and collapsed like a rockslide, leaving small holes in the dimensional fabric. When a body of similar size and mass approached it was recognised as being part of the whole and was allowed through. And, as being part of the whole, JC didn't undergo the horror of mutation that Hunter went through. In that respect, he could be called lucky. 

In others he couldn't. From JC's point of view, the canyon disappeared and was replaced by a bridge, and he was know circling around a built up area looking for a major international airport that should be directly underneath him. And now his primitive, but extremely powerful, radar was picking up two inbound bogeys that where only fifteen miles out and closing fast. 

While JC was concentrating on the two bogeys his radio crackled to life. JC knew that he had left his radio on GUARD, UHF 243, the international distress frequency. 

"Attention unidentified F-15, you are in violation of MegaKat airspace. Slow to 200 Knots and lower your landing gear" an Australian accented voice ordered JC over the radio. 

JC did as he was ordered over the radio and lowered his landing gear. When his airspeed reached 200 Knots, he followed protocol and made his transmission. "I am Major Jade Callen of the United States Air Force and I am in United States airspace" 

On the other side of the transmission, Hunter could barely contain his excitement. He had found what he believed was a pilot from his own world, but he had to make sure. "Do not make any transmissions, Major" Hunter replied "Proceed on a heading of 116 degrees magnetic. Any deviation will result in you being forced down. Do you copy?" "I hear you" 

On his radar screen, JC couldn't find any aircraft in the area apart from the two bogeys and they hadn't made any transmissions. In fact they had taken up a holding pattern at twelve miles as if waiting for someone or something. 

Looking around JC saw why. Behind him an F-22 had taken up firing position. A Raptor with a pilot that had an Australian accent intrigued JC; the only Australian that flew the F-22 that JC knew of was the man he was trying to find. 

Acting on a hunch, JC entered a twelve-digit number into his radio panel. This was a special prefix number; a code that told the Raptor's computer that it was being accessed from outside. After the prefix came the scramble code so that the transmission couldn't be understood if it was intercepted, and finally, a radio frequency. 

Hunter knew that something was happening when someone entered the prefix code for his aircraft, and it was accepted on the first attempt. The odds of that occurring stood at 1.00e+13 to 1 with 1,000,000,000,000 possible combinations! 

When the radio changed its frequency to a military band with a scramble code, Hunter knew that the pilot of the F-15 was his friend and wingman JC "Talk to me!" JC said when the line was open 

"Jesus Christ! What are you doing here?" Hunter asked, trying to sound as casual as possible "I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I'd give you a call" JC sarcastically replied "What the hell do you think I'm doing here?" 

"I'd tell you but then I would have to kill you" "Screw you!" "That, my friend, is the best offer I've had since I've been here" "I'm glad I'm married" "Bet your wife isn't" 

Hunter's last comment stung and JC let Hunter know in very diplomatic terms. "Hunter, when do we land?" "Three Minutes, present speed" "Good. Because when we do, I'll punch your lights out!" "You wouldn't dare!" "Watch me" 

As the two aircraft passed the outer marker of the MegaKat City International airport Hunter brought the banter to a halt. JC waited as Hunter arranged landing clearance on that world's busiest airport. The wait stretched into ten seconds, then thirty seconds, then after almost a full minute, JC's radio crackled to life. 

"JC, we've been cleared to land on runway four. Call the tower on channel 22 and they will call you in" "Roger that. Then what?" "Don't know. I'll think of something" 

JC was too busy contacting the tower to make a reply. When he was on final approach he re-established contact with Hunter, who was circling above, and told him of the weather conditions on approach. In return Hunter told JC to stay in his jet and not to get out until he told him to. 

JC was concerned about Hunter's cryptic message, until he saw the small convoy of flashing lights moving towards him. Before he could take any action the two bogeys that he had forgotten about decided to land. 

The first one was a yellow and grey, opened nosed, single engine, swept wing design. It landed and taxied towards the F-15 and stopped only meters away. Peering through the darkness JC thought that he could make out two triangle shapes on its pilot's head. Further investigation was interrupted by the arrival of the second bogey. 

This one had the same basic design as an F-14D Tomcat but was longer and had a wider fuselage. This one was painted black with red nose art, bright yellow on the air intakes but with no other visible markings. When it landed it used its intakes as exhaust nozzles for VOTL landing. 

"Hunter, Gruman is going to kill you when they find out what you did to their design" "Not my fault, JC. They did it on their own" "Whatever. Where can I park?" "Hanger 18, it should be on your right wing. Do you see it" "Yeah, I see it. Now, what do I do?" "Just park your bird before I shoot you." 

JC taxied into the waiting hangar where the two other aircraft were already parked, but at the opposite end. Before JC could say anything, Hunter flew in through the still open hangar doors, sideways!, and put down next to JC's F15. 

When the doors of the hangar shut, JC got the transmission that he had been waiting patiently for. "JC, scramble code 12, please," Hunter told his senior officer. After JC had activated his scrambler to the correct setting, Hunter continued "Major, you are on a parallel world. To avoid meeting yourself, please use our rank or callsign when you identify yourself. Any questions?" 

"Just a couple, what do I call you?" "Either Captain or Hunter should do. Next?" "Did the apes evolve?" "No, the big Kats did" "Cats?" JC asked disbelief in his voice "Kats" Hunter confirmed "Don't tell me your allergic to felines" "I'm not, Rachel is" 

Rachel was JC's wife; Hunter had met her on several occasions and knew that she was undergoing allergy treatment. "You may now depart your aircraft" "You're so kind," JC said, his voice dripping with sarcasm 

The half egg shaped canopy of the F-15 opened slowly as its pilot removed his helmet and skullcap and had a quick look around the large aircraft hanger, which was normally used to house the largest of passenger aircraft. 

JC took a deep breath to steady himself as he cast a glance towards the canopy of Hunter's F-22 that was now open. Hunter was leaning on the edge of the cockpit. When the Major saw the inhuman creature that was occupying the cockpit he drew his sidearm and aimed it at Hunter. 

Seeing this, Hunter responded by drawing his own sidearm and aiming it at his superior officer. Hunter knew that if he didn't calm his wingman's nerves soon a shooting match could start and Hunter didn't want to kill his wingman. 

"Who the hell are you?" JC shouted, "Where is my Wingman?" "Calm down, Major. I'm your wingman" Hunter replied "I'll explain everything else later" "Prove it!" "Remember that time back in '89 when I dropped through your flight formation?" "It was in Nevada" "Actually it was in South Australia" "What was I flying?" "You were with the 'Aggressors' flying an F-5" "Where from?" "New Mexico" 

JC paused while he assimilated the information that Hunter had given him. What he had said was true, but it was also on record. He had to think of something that only FLTLT Hunt would know. 

"What did you say at the beginning of the exercise during the briefing in '89?" JC asked "I said 'Don't shoot me down, I'm with the KGB'" "And..." Hunter felt the heat rise into his ears; even after a decade he could feel the stares of the Aggressor Squadron on the back of his head and the laughter of his own ARDU squadron. "I said it in Russian" 

JC lowered his pistol slightly and Hunter knew that he had, at least partially, convinced JC that he, the Hanger and the city were real. In kind Hunter lowered the sights of his own pistol. 

In the dead silence that the situation had created, the sound of someone moving came from the part of the hanger that was above the two. JC and Hunter responded by turning towards the sound and firing repeatedly until the magazines on their weapons ran dry. 

After the echoes had faded and their ears had stopped ringing, the two calmly reloaded their guns, exchanging comment about each other's respective marksmanship. As they did this, Lieutenant Feral and the SWAT Kats showed up from the other side of the hanger where they were waiting, guns drawn and Gloveitrixes armed. 

"Hunter, what the hell happened?" T-Bone asked, levelling his Gloveitrix at JC "We had an intruder" Hunter replied "Lieutenant, you might want to check on Miss Gora's CamreaKat; the poor guy is probably going into shock right now" "I'll get onto it" the lieutenant replied before going to a small door that was set in the hangers main double doors "What is he?" T-Bone asked, pointing his Gloveitrix at JC "T-Bone, Razor, stand down. The Major's friendly, most of the time" Hunter added as an afterthought "I'll brief you guy's later" 

"You'll keep, Captain" JC said under his breath, Hunter heard the comment but choose to ignore it 

************************************************************************ 

Outside Hanger 18 a small media circus had gathered upon receiving word that the UFO landed at the airport and had been moved to the hanger. Enforcer units and airport security were controlling the small but growing crowd intent on seeing both the UFO and its pilot. 

When gunfire was heard most of the crowd instinctively crouched down to avoid any stray shots. At the Kats Eye News van, Ann Gora saw her camera Kat, Johnny, stumble up towards her, his paws shaking. 

"What happened, Johnny?" Ann asked "They... They shot at me!" Johnny exclaimed "They?" Ann said, "Is there more than one?" "No Ann, there's just one alien. But they both shot at me!" Johnny replied, sitting down in the open door of the news van "WHO?" "The new SWAT Kat" Ann decided that she also needed to sit down as well "Are you telling me that the pilot of that UFO, and Hunter both shot at you?" "Yes!" 

Ann made a mental note to investigate the matter further at a later date, but first she needed to find out what else Johnny saw. "What did the alien look like?" she asked her distraught camera Kat "It was horrible, Ann. It had very dark skin, like it had been burnt, almost no fur and its ears where on the sides of its head" Ann was stunned for a moment "Was it male or female?" "I couldn't tell, I was just trying to survive" 

Ann was about to continue questioning her camera Kat when Lieutenant Feral appeared at the news van. "What happened" she asked Johnny. Johnny related his story to the Lieutenant. 

"And what where you doing up there?" Felina asked "Just getting some tape for the morning news" "Not anymore you're not. I'm taking your tape" Ann was immediately on the ball "Why Lieutenant?" she asked "What about freedom of the press? What about the first amendment?" "What about their privacy? What about your ethics?" "What about their weapons?" a third voice asked 

All eyes looked towards the technician who was reviewing the film that had sparked the argument. Pointing to the screen with his pen "Just what are these things here, here and here?" he asked as the tape ran 

"Well, those three are Reconnaissance pods, those other two are fuel drop tanks. Also known as 'Jugs'" Lieutenant Feral, Ann, Johnny and the technician let out a yelp as they nearly jumped out of their collective fur. The Lieutenant was the first to regain her composure. 

"Hunter, what are you doing here?" she scolded "I needed to get my hands on a phone" Lieutenant Feral handed Hunter a mobile phone as Ann questioned part of his last sentence "Hunter, what are hands?" "This is a hand" Hunter replied, holding up his right paw and flexing the four digits for effect "That's a paw" "Whatever!" 

Hunter hurriedly tapped the numbers on the mobile phone and placed it to his ear. After a couple of seconds the connection was made and the phone at the other end began to ring. When it was answered, Hunter simply said "Sir, I require your assistance" He then went on to describe the situation and listened to the Professor's instructions 

When Hunter had made note of what Professor Hackle had said he pocketed the mobile and turned to Lieutenant Feral. "Lieutenant" he said, "Can I use an Enforcer squad car?" 

Lieutenant Feral didn't know exactly what Hunter wanted, but she had a rough idea. "You want to borrow a cruiser?" "Whatever, just so long as it can get the Major and myself to wherever we're going in safety" "No dice, SWAT Kat. If you're going to take a cruiser out for a joyride I want to know exactly where you and that alien are going" 

Hunter looked as if he was going to argue the point but he suddenly smiled and said "You're quite right Lieutenant, I cannot ask you to let me use Enforcer equipment for SWAT Kat reasons." With that he walked back to Hanger 18, still smiling. 

Felina wondered what exactly the SWAT Kat was going to do, but thought better of it when she remembered his smile. How could such a warm action make her want to run as far away as she possibly could? 

Inside Hanger 18 Hunter motioned for JC and the SWAT Kats to come closer. "Razor, is the type II Cyclotron loaded?" "Affirmative, but you don't know how to drive it" "I don't have to. JC here" Hunter said, jerking his thumb at the Major "Can, that is unless he's lost his knack" "Your gonna regret saying that, boy!" 

Hunter made his way to the Raptor and retrieved his MP-5 and ammunition, 3 thirty round magazines that attached to his right leg strap. He handed the weapon to JC and asked, "You know how to use this thing?" "Hunter, contrary to popular belief.." "And all the evidence I can dig up" "..I did qualify in the use of automatic weapons," JC said as he checked the weapon "Where's yours?" "There is another one attached to the Cyclotron; I'll use that one" 

************************************************************************ 

At Dreamland, Airman Samuel Denley had just finished checking his equipment for the third time, but the sad truth was that Major Callen's aircraft had disappeared in the same area that had claimed Flight lieutenant Hunt. 

He called over the duty Sergeant, Sergeant William Carter, for the second time in the past half-hour. The first time was when Callen went missing and Denley was ordered to check his equipment to make sure that it was working properly. This time he knew that the equipment was in perfect working order. Major Callen had vanished 

Carter had orders to follow; they stated that when Major Callen reported back or if anything happened to him, (such as disappearing), to call the General's adjutant, who would decide if it were important enough to wake the General at three am. 

It was and she did. The phone in the General's quarters buzzed softly at first but steadily turned into a harsh ringing, rousing the General from his slumber. 

"It's..." Drybeck began trying to find his watch. After a few seconds he gave up, "...Very early. This had better be good!" "Sorry to wake you General" the adjutant said "But we have a situation" "What type of situation?" "The boys down in the Command Centre have lost Major Callen" "What do you mean by 'lost' exactly?" "One moment he was on radar, on the next sweep he was missing" "Understood. I want a full report by 0730 hours. I'll have flapjacks with maple syrup, hashbrowns and orange juice" before the adjutant could reply, he had hung up the phone and was desperately trying to catch a few more hours of sleep. 

The adjutant sighed. How on earth would she convince the cook, at three in the morning, to make flapjacks to be ready at seven thirty! 

************************************************************************ 

The Cyclotron stopped at one of the quiet suburban streets that were far away from MegaKat international airport. Had anybody tried to track the Cyclotron and its strange passengers as they left the Airport they would have found out what a strange sense of humour the passenger had. 

"Did you enjoy that, Tim?" Callen asked as Tim made the final mark on his map "Oh, yeah!" Tim said, flashing Callen a toothy grin "Now, North! We're eight minutes out from our destination" "That's about nine miles," Callen said, doing the rough calculations in his head "Closer to 14 Kilometres, Major. I bet you thought that we where at least 50 miles away, right?" "You think I'm going to admit that?" Callen said starting the Cyclotron "But with your navigation skills, I wouldn't be surprised if we ended up right where we started" 

As the Cyclotron sped from its stop, Tim tossed the map over his shoulder. When it came to rest beneath a nearby street light, the evasion route that Tim had ordered Callen to take had been marked in red pen on the map itself. And under the street light it stood out alone. 

| | ______ /\ | | / \ / \ | | / / \ | | \ / \ | | \______ /________\ | | \ | | | | \ | | | | / | | \________/ \______/ | | . 

************************************************************************ 

Inside Hanger 18, Razor and Lieutenant Feral where crawling all over JC's F-15. T-Bone was trying to work out why the two aircraft had different controls. While the newer Aircraft was obviously the Raptor, if you used a Kat way of assessing age, with digital gauges, warning lights, several computer screens. It had both the look, and feel of a more modern aircraft. 

The F-15 had dials, few warning lights with only a single radar screen and a single VDU. From what he had seen of Hunter, T-Bone assumed that humans would assess the age of equipment in a similar manner. So why send an old plane to look for a new one? Why not just send another F-22? 

Mentally T-Bone slapped himself, Hunter was a test pilot and the Raptor was a test aircraft. It would stand to reason that his commanders wouldn't send another F-22 in case the same thing happened, so they sent a lesser plane instead. 

If an F-15 was their idea of a lesser plane, and the Raptor was a state-of-the art test aircraft, T-Bone wondered what was currently in service. 

"Bingo!" Razor said, breaking T-Bones train of thought "Apart from the cannon this aircraft is completely unarmed" "They put a cannon on that thing?" Lieutenant Feral asked, poking her head out from under the wing "A 20mm six barrel rotating Gatling gun, an M161-A Vulcan or, as Hunter would call it, a decent sized gun" T-Bone said "Razor, how much ammunition is it carrying?" "500 Rounds" 

T-Bone let out a low whistle; 500 rounds could do a lot of damage. Just ask the pilots of the Enforcer choppers that Hunter shot down when he first arrived, but he had used over 700 rounds in that little encounter. 

"What's so great about this Vulcan?" Lieutenant Feral asked Both T-Bone and Razor looked thoughtfully at the Lieutenant. Finally Razor spoke "Think of it as a version of our cement machine gun, that has a much faster rate of fire, that fires at much faster velocities over a greater range and will penetrate MegaAlloy armour with relative ease" "It's not something that you want to talk about" T-Bone finished 

************************************************************************ 

Callen stopped the Cyclotron outside the iron gates that marked the boundary of Professor Hackle's home. When they didn't open, Hunter fired one shot into the gates setting off a number of alarms inside the Professor's residence. Seconds later the gates opened. 

"Let me guess. You fractured the occasional law?" Callen asked, restarting the Cyclotron "You could say that" Hunter replied, as the Cyclotron moved through the gates and onto Professor Hackle's estate. 

The garage door opened. As Callen drove through, Professor Hackle was waiting for them. "My apologies for keeping you and your friend waiting SWAT Kat" Hackle said "I have the devices that you require, but first I must determine if your friend is from the same dimension as you are from" 

"Understood, Professor" Hunter said as he motioned for JC to pass him his dogtags "Would these be sufficient?" he asked "Oh yes, these will do nicely" Hackle replied, running a hand-held scanner over the metal disks "The computer will take several hours to analyse and compare the quantum frequencies from your identity disks. I suggest that we all get some rest until then" 

"Yes professor!" JC and Hunter said in unison, Without breaking into a smile, Hackle went upstairs to catch a few more hours of sleep, while in the workshop JC and Hunter slept back-to-back on an old couch that was next to the computer. 

The next thing either of the two pilots knew was that it was light out and Professor Hackle was gently prodding them with his cane. "What time is it?" Hunter asked 

"It has just turned Six o'Clock" Hackle answered. After checking his watch and finding the Professor's time to be accurate, Hunter stood up. And with no support for his back, JC promptly collapsed onto the couch, still half asleep. 

No one present noticed his antics. After all, he was a test pilot and thus was allowed to be a little on the wild and crazy side. 

"SWAT Kat" Hackle began "The computer has completed its analysis and I am pleased to say that the two of you are from the same dimension" Hackle waited for some sort of reaction from Hunter or JC; the only response he got was the sound of JC snoring. 

"I have made a small dimensional porthole generator that will have to be installed on board your aircraft. It has been pre-set to send you back to your home dimension" Hackle smiled "Fortunately I made several, you SWAT Kats are so hard on my inventions" 

Professor Hackle then proceeded to give Hunter a rundown on the dimensional porthole generator and how to install it on board their aircraft. 

"Ready to go, Captain?" JC asked "Ready when you are, sir" Hunter replied Both officers then saluted the Professor before doing a crisp about face and returning to the Cyclotron, carrying their precious cargo like it was the most valuable jewel in MegaKat City. 

************************************************************************ 

The small crowd of curious onlookers outside of hanger 18 was growing into a large crowd, several extra Enforcer units had been called in during the past three hours, and to make things worse Lieutenant Commander Steele had arrived to take command. 

It was a splendid example of the incompetent leading the unable. 

"Okay everybody, stand back. This area is under Enforcer control," Steele said through his loud hailer. He then made the hanger and its contents a restricted area and anybody who tried to breech it would be shot. 

As this was happening the Cyclotron carrying JC and Hunter had re-entered MegaKat International and were speeding towards Hanger 18. Without warning they skidded to a halt. 

"You see that?" JC asked "Yeah, I see it" Hunter replied. Scanning the crowd, he found the who and the what that he was looking for "Stay with me, Major. I have an idea" "It's official, we're doomed" 

In the Kats Eye news van, Johnny's mobile phone rang. It rang a second time before he noticed, by the third ring he had answered it. He had no idea who was calling, but he was going to give them an earful for ringing him at a time like this. 

It was Johnny who got his second shock in three hours when he heard the voice on the other end of the line. After a couple of seconds he silently passed the mobile to Ann, who gingerly put it to her ear. 

"Hello?" she asked, "Who is this?" "Miss Gora, I'm hurt!" Hunter replied Ann nearly dropped the mobile. Grasping it in both paws she asked, "Where are you?" while scanning the area "Check your six" Hunter replied "My what?" she asked "Look behind you" Ann casually glanced over her shoulder, out of the corner of her eye. For a brief second, she saw the single headlight of the Cyclotron light up. 

"You see that?" Hunter asked "Yes, I did. Why are you calling me?" "I need some information and some help" "Okay" said Ann, her reporter instincts kicking in "What's in it for me?" On the other end of the phone Hunter smiled "Try the news story of the week!" "Oh, sounds nice" Ann purred "What's the story?" "The departure of the Major and myself from this universe for our own." There was a pause at Ann's end. Then "What information do you need?" 

************************************************************************ 

Two Enforcers where patrolling each side of Hanger 18; JC and Hunter planned to neutralise those at the hanger's side entrance. The guards met in the middle of the their patrol area, turned and walked back. When they had their backs to each other, JC and Hunter would take advantage of the situation and attack. 

Getting Ann Gora to move the news van close to the Enforcer barricade, JC and Hunter hid on top, waiting for the right moment to pounce on their respective targets. When the time was right, the two air force officers leaped from the news van and onto the patrolling Enforcers. 

JC landed on his target's shoulders, knocking him to the ground. When the Enforcer got to his feet, JC rewarded his efforts with a roundhouse kick to the head, taking him out of commission. 

Hunter was having some trouble. He had missed his opponent on the first attempt and received a rifle butt in the face for his effort. Dazed, Hunter punched his opponent several times in the chest and abdomen. While the Enforcer recovered from Hunter's vicious attack, Hunter looped his right arm around the Enforcers neck and was about to snap it when JC called out. 

"Captain!" he hissed, "Zero body count" Hunter looked at his wingman "Understood, sir!" Hunter hissed back as he let the stunned Enforcer drop to the ground. Silently running to the personnel door of Hanger 18, they readied their MP-5's to single shot semi-automatic. JC held up three fingers, then two, then one. When he made a fist Hunter burst through the door. 

"SWAT Kats! Don't move!" he yelled when he was clear of the door, closely followed by JC who yelled his own warning. The Enforcers where so stunned by what was happening that they offered no resistance when T-Bone and Razor relieved them of their rifles. Steele, on the other hand, was another matter. 

The Lieutenant Commander tried to make a break for the side exit that JC and Hunter had came through. Seeing this, Hunter turned, dropped to one knee and fired off two rounds at the fleeing Kat. Both bullets hit their mark in his left thigh, effectively stopping him in his tracks. Clutching his leg and screaming in exaggerated pain, the Enforcer second-in-command made a single stride before falling to the hanger floor where Hunter rushed over to him. 

Rolling Steele over with his foot, Hunter made sure that the Enforcer was alive and unarmed before effortlessly lifting him and carrying him to where the others were waiting. 

Outside things where just getting interesting. Commander Feral had been woken up less that half an hour before by a phone call from Ann Gora. She had told him that Hunter had asked for the Enforcers mobile command centre to be brought to MegaKat International airport. 

Feral had heard what had happened through the Enforcer grapevine while he was in transit to MegaKat International. Frankly, he was surprised that it had lasted this long without anyone getting themselves killed. He was confident that Hunter had the situation under control. 

That was until the call came over the radio that there was an Enforcer down. Silently he urged the driver to go faster, hoping that it was either a false alarm or that the incident wasn't serious. Either way, he needed to get to MegaKat International as fast as he could. 

The mobile command centre was housed inside a grey semi-trailer with 'MegaKat Enforcers' painted in its side above the Enforcer logo. When towed by a Mac truck with similar colouring, it was a sight to be seen. 

Yet not such a sight as to divert the crowd's attention from what was happening inside Hanger 18. As the MCC pulled up as close as it could to Hanger 18, both the main doors opened up and two Enforcers carried the injured Lt. Com Steele between them. 

Feral, wearing Enforcer body armour instead of his trench coat, rushed towards the Enforcers. He asked, "What happened?" "We where attacked, sir" Steele replied "That SWAT Kat and his alien friend attacked us without any warning and.." "Button it, Steele. I didn't ask you!" Feral snapped, turning his attention to the next highest-ranking Enforcer and repeated his question. 

"The new SWAT Kat and the alien came through the side door" the Enforcer began, pointing in the general direction of the door that Hunter and JC had made their entrance through "and challenged us. Commander Steele tried to make a break for help and was wounded in the process" 

Feral mentally translated what he had been told into plain English 'Steele panicked, ran and got shot'. "Then what?" 

"The alien patched up Commander Steele and made us carry him out here, sir" "Where's my niece?" the Commander asked, the worry in his voice plain for all to hear "She is unharmed and was still with the SWAT Kats when we left" the Enforcer replied as his commander rushed pass him 

When Feral heard the last piece of information he rushed through the hangers' huge double doors. 

******************************************************************************** 

Hunter had his head in the F-15's radar array when he heard the sound of the hangers' main doors being opened and the sound of weapons being drawn. Stealing a peek from where he was working, he saw that both JC and the remaining SWAT Kats had drawn their weapons at somebody. The fact that a shot hadn't been fired was promising. 

"What the hell is going on here?" a thunderous voice boomed. Hunter gave a small sigh "Not now, Commander. I'm kinda busy" "Doing what?" "Preparing to leave" Hunter said, looking up from the F-15's radar array, and seeing that his support crew had gathered around the irate Enforcer Commander. 

Walking up to Commander Feral he jibbed "So, Commander. What can I do you for?" Very funny, SWAT Kat" was the Commanders reply. "I would like to know just what you reckless hot-shots are doing here at this hour and what is that?" he said pointing to JC 

"Commander, 'that', as you so rudely put it, is my commanding officer. When he says 'jump' I jump, when he says 'shoot' I shoot. Any questions?" "You still haven't answered my question. What are you hot-shots doing here?" "We are preparing to travel from the here to the there" Hunter said cryptically, reaching into his breast pocket and handing Feral a piece of paper "Speaking of which, can you acquire these items?" 

Feral looked at the piece of paper. On it was a list of items used for displays- projector, whiteboards, maps etc. Most, if not all, of these items were available inside the airport. It was not his job to reason why Hunter wanted those items. If it would get rid of the crowd outside of Hanger 18 Feral would try just about anything. 

"Do you need anything else?" Feral sarcastically asked "Coffee, doughnuts, suicide pills?" "Just fill the bloody list!" 

Feral sensed that the conversation had ended when Hunter turned his attention to his commanding officer and started spouting techno-babble. He left the hanger and began his search for the items that Hunter had requested. 

JC was pleased that the installation of the first of the dimensional porthole generators in the F-15 was successful. The second one was the cause of some trouble. 

"What do you mean it won't work?" "Well Major, I can install it. But I can't turn it on" "You can't turn it on?" "I can have either the Anti-Gravs or the generator. But not both at the same time" "Not enough power?" "Not enough power" 

Something didn't quite add up. An F-22 had two of the most powerful engines that had ever been used in a NATO aircraft. Someone had tampered with the Raptor's engines, Callen knew that Hunt didn't tamper with the engines and he wouldn't let the SWAT Kats do any modifications either. The only logical solution was that the engines weren't operating at full capacity when Hunt took off at Dreamland. 

"Install it. You'll have to take the Anti-Gravs off line after we reach altitude" "Roger that" 

Hunter finished the installation in time for Commander Feral to walk in the door dragging a luggage cart with the items that Hunter requested, including a box of 9mm bullets. 

"Commander, how thoughtful" said Hunter as he picked up the box of cartridges "Did you get the rest?" "Maps, whiteboard, markers, projector. I even found a table to put everything on" 

Hunter glanced at the SWAT Kats, as if to say 'And you thought that he couldn't find his butt with both hands'. Turning his attention back to Commander Feral he told him to set up the equipment. 

A tap on his shoulder broke Hunter's stride as he turned to face his wingman "What's up, Boss?" Hunter asked "Are you going to nurse those all night" JC asked, pointing to the box of cartridges that Hunter was still carrying "Or are you going to do something useful with them?" 

JC was surprised when Hunter handed him the empty magazine that was full only hours before and the box. As an afterthought Hunter retrieved three rounds and inserted them into the magazine of his MP-5 as he moved off. JC took the not-so-subtle hint and began to refill both the magazines that Hunter and himself had used. 

T-Bone looked at the photograph that Commander Feral had projected on one of the hanger walls. It was an overhead shot of MegaKat central bridge; the same bridge that Hunter had appeared over. 

"What are you going to do, Commander?" T-Bone asked "I'm going to use twelve Enforcer 'choppers to create a permitter at 1 mile from the bridge. North being twelve o'Clock" "Make it eleven 'choppers, Commander" Hunter said, appearing from the shadows, "I promised Ann Gora an exclusive" "I'll try to fit her in, but no promises" "Understood" Hunter continued "T-Bone, can you and Razor coordinate the 'choppers from above and make sure that nothing breeches the perimeter?" "We'll do our best" 

Hunter then beckoned the Major over to where Commander Feral, T-Bone and himself were standing. JC, sensing as to why he was needed, took out his map of the canyon and spread it out on the table. 

"Our point of entry into this world was along this canyon, here" JC explained "If we reverse course 180 degrees we have just over a second to pull up" "Or what" T-Bone asked "Or the boys at the ranch will be picking Hunter and myself off of the canyon walls with tweezers and blotting paper!" 

************************************************************************* 

JC grabbed Hunters arm as they walked back to their aircraft. "You don't have to do this, Captain," said JC "You don't have to put your life on the line like this" "Cut the crap, Major" Hunter replied "You still owe me Five Bucks!" "I had to try" JC said as he gave Hunter a gentle shove towards his aircraft. 

Felina was stroking the nose of the Raptor, an action that mimicked what Hunters own actions of a week ago when he did his pre-flight inspection at Dreamland. 'How long has she been standing there?' Hunter thought 'Probably since I burst through the door' 

"Something on your mind, Lieutenant?" Hunter asked Felina "Just wondering if I'll ever get a chance to fly this thing" The beginnings of a smile formed in the corner of Hunters mouth. "Don't Worry, Lieutenant. You'll get your chance, you have my word on it" 

Hunter climbed the ladder in front of his F-22. Just before entering his cockpit he glanced over his shoulder towards T-Bone and Razor, who were already in the cockpit of the TurboKat, and to JC who was in a similar position to himself. 

"Hey, Major!" Hunter called "Want to earn your money back?" "Sounds like a bet, Captain!" 

************************************************************************* 

T-Bone hadn't heard the conversation that had occurred between JC and Hunter, but the look in the Major's eyes said that something big was going to happen. 

"Tower from SWAT Kat oh-one" T-Bone said "Request permission to taxi" "SWAT Kat oh-one" The controller replied "Permission granted to taxi to runway oh-three west" "Roger that tower" 

Hunter watched rays of morning sunlight streak across the TurboKat fuselage and canopy as it left to cover of Hanger 18 and taxi towards the third East/West Runway. 

Hunter considered pushing the Raptor's 'start-up' button, but he dismissed the thought almost as soon as it had arisen. This time he HAD to show off for the crowd, there was a good chance that he might not be able to make a return appearance. 

"Tower from Black Stallion oh-one" JC said over the radio "Request permission to taxi" "Black Stallion oh-one. Permission granted to taxi to runway oh-three west" "Roger that, tower" 

With practiced ease, Hunter began to perform a manual start-up of the Raptor. First he closed the connections to the batteries, giving power to the electrical systems. Next he used the power from the batteries to start the left engine, when that engine had enough power he used its turbine speed to start the right engine. 

With both engines running at idle power, Hunter was able to start the internal power and boot up the Raptors flight computer. Hunter wanted to reach altitude fast so he activated his Anti-Gravs, even though it meant that later he would have to turn them off before he could go home. 

Targeting and navigational systems booted up by themselves, the data that they would provide will be invaluable when it came time for Hunters debriefing. Hunter also decided to keep the undercarriage lowered, manually taking off will be more fun than just floating out of the hanger. 

Hunter nosed the Raptor out of the relative safety of Hanger 18 and into the morning sunlight. He saw the TurboKat take off and JC's F-15 had just finished taxiing and was awaiting permission to take off. 

"Tower from Duck-hole two-nine" Hunter said, using his Australian radio call number "Request permission to taxi and tandem take off with Black Stallion oh-one" "Hold on, Duck-hole" the controller said. 

Hunter knew that the controller was talking to JC about his request. Apparently such a manoeuvre was unknown at this airport. "Tower to Duck-hole two-nine, permission granted to taxi and tandem take off with Black Stallion oh-one on runway oh-three west" 

Hunter smiled beneath his mask; JC had convinced the flight controller that a tandem take off was possible. "Roger that, tower. Proceeding" 

Hunter manoeuvred his Raptor into position behind and to one side if JC's F-15. "Power to idle" Hunter said. JC was in command of the next manoeuvre, if Hunter accelerated to fast or pulled up to late the effect could be a disaster. 

"Set power for 10 knots" JC ordered as the F-15 slowly moved forward "Power set!" Hunter replied as his own aircraft kept pace "Keep up, Captain! Accelerating to 20 knots" "Accelerating!" "Stay with me, Hunter. I'm opening the throttle" 

Under normal conditions Hunter would be fighting the jet wash from the F-15's twin engines and the turbulence created by the wings as the air moved over them, but the computer systems in the Raptor made constant adjustments to the aerodynamics of its wings keeping them stable. 

JC increased power to his own engines as he rolled down the runway, pleased that Hunter was keeping up with him, when his airspeed reached 130 mph JC gently pulled back on the stick and his Eagle took flight. 

Behind his mask, Hunter permitted himself a smile, instead of doing a straight take off, why not add a twist? 'Better not' he thought 'I can show off some more later, besides this is something new for the crowd' 

Quickly the pair of aircraft climbed towards 1000 feet, where they would break formation and circle, slowly gaining altitude until they reached 15,000 feet. 

"Captain, these jugs are killing my manoeuvrability. I'm going to lose them over the river" said JC "Make sure that they don't hit the ground" "Roger that" Hunter replied, "Going in hot" 

Over MegaKat River, JC released both of his 150-Gallon 'Jugs' and three flares for Hunter to target before jinking hard to the right. The heat-seeker in Hunters remaining AIM-9L locked onto the flares before it had left the weapons bay. 

"Fox Two!" Hunter said as he fired the missile towards the three flares burning between the two falling drop tanks. Within seconds the 'sidewinder' missile had reached its target and detonated in a spectacular ball of fire that completely obliterated both jugs and their remaining fuel. 

From the cockpit of the TurboKat, Razor saw JC's F-15 release it's drop tanks and the resulting fireball caused by Hunters' missile. "When you two are finished playing" Began Razor "the formation is almost complete. Get ready" 

Setting up the helicopter permitter was easer than it had originally seemed. After Hunter's display of force against Lieutenant Commander Steele the rest of the Enforcers were quite willing to lend what assistance their Commander deemed necessary. 

Ann Gora and Johnny were in Katseye 2, the backup Katseye news 'chopper (in use while Katseye 1 was under repairs), getting several good shots of Hunter's F-22C and JC's F-15C practise their re-entry manoeuvres. 

Seeing two aircraft of radical design fly at just under the speed of sound so close to his camera terrified and, at the same time, thrilled Johnny. He watched the new SWAT Kat's plane position itself behind and to the left of, what appeared to be, his commanding officers plane and fly straight towards MegaKat central bridge, then suddenly break formation after passing above the bridges central structure, only to circle around, re-form and repeat the process another time. 

After the forth practise run JC transmitted the 'go' signal to the Enforcer 'chopper formation and to T-Bone and Razor in the TurboKat. 

Forming up on his wingman, Hunter went through the final rundown before both he and JC took the final step towards their goal. 

"A.G's off, porthole generator is on-line" "Roger that, Hunter. Put your visor down, it could get bright real soon" "Roger. T-Bone, Razor; thanks for the memories!" 

Hunter complied, putting his visor down made good sense, not only was the morning sun growing in intensity, but Professor Hackle had said that there would be a high number of free energy photons given off; to Hunter and JC that meant a lot of light. 

The two aircraft banked towards MegaKat Central Bridge and quickly gained speed as they had done several times before during their practice runs. Closer and closer they flew to their target; the anticipation of the two pilots reached fever pitch. They were now only seconds away from their goal. 

"Go! Go! Go!," JC shouted over the radio. When he heard this, Hunter activated the generator. In a brilliant flash of pure white light, the familiar backdrop of MegaKat City had disappeared and was replaced by the rusty red walls of the testing canyon at Dreamland. 

"Pull up! Pull up! Pull up!" "KRUD!" swore Hunter as he pulled the stick back hard and kicked in the F-22's afterburners "I've come too far to become a red splat" he grunted as he felt the G forces push against his body. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Hunter cleared the Canyon and reformed on his wingman. "That was a rush!" said JC "You're right! Let's not do it again. Pull up??" "Yeah, alright. A heading of 138 degrees will take us directly back to Dreamland" "Roger that, Major. You take the lead" 

************************************************************************* 

Alarms sounded all over Dreamland seconds after JC and Hunter re-appeared. To the personal at Area 51 they weren't the two missing aircraft that had disappeared, they were unidentified, and possible hostile, aircraft. 

"What the hell is going on here?" General Drybeck asked as he stormed into the Operations room at Area 51. Not only was he bothered by the alarm and the organized chaos that it caused, but he was more than likely going to have to skip breakfast. 

"Two contacts just appeared in canyon Echo five, sir" Airman James Carey said from his radar station "Are there any birds up?" "Two F-16's are on the tarmac now, sir" the airman replied "The only other aircraft unaccounted for are Black Stallion oh-one and Whisper oh-one" "Scramble the F-16's!" "Roger that, sir" 

Another airman handed a computer printout to the General. On it was an analysis of the two contact's EM signature; the first one was identical to Callen's Eagle. The second was similar to Hunt's Raptor, but had subtle differences, yet it was somehow familiar. 

"Sir, they're transmitting IFF recognition codes and transponder signals" "Verification?" Airman Carey opened and closed his mouth like a stunned fish, "Sir" he squeaked "IFF codes are valid and confirmed as those belonging to Black Stallion oh-one and Whisper oh-one" "Good grief" 

************************************************************************* 

With a small 'Click' Hunter shut off his transponder, there seemed no point in keeping it active. "Signal sent" he called to his wingman "Now what?" 

"We continue," was JC's reply. "According to regulations and procedures, they should be launching interceptors about now" "And what should we do in the mean time?" "We keep flying" 

Waiting was the hardest thing that Hunter had done since his initial disappearance. At the back of his head he could almost feel the sensors of the awaiting interceptors bearing down on him. 

Less than a mile away the second of the two F-16's activated his targeting radar. Both JC and Hunter's own warning systems flashed, alerting them to the obvious threat. After manually shutting off the alarms, JC opened his mike. 

"Black Stallion oh-one to unidentified aircraft, squawk and IDENT on GUARD" "Black Stallion oh-one, this is Rapier oh-seven. Come right to 152 degrees and hold" "Roger that" 

Hunter heard the conversation between JC and Rapier oh-seven, and, although he couldn't place a name to the voice, he had heard the voice around the base before. 

Running silent, Hunter casually slipped in behind Rapier oh-seven and activated his targeting radar. Only to have a SECOND radar target HIM. 

"Stand down your weapons, Whisper" "Who the HELL?" Hunter swore, looking over his shoulder at the second F-16 that was mirroring his actions. "Whisper oh-one, meet Rapier oh-six," said JC. "His friend behind me is Rapier oh-seven, or as you know them, Black and Decker" "Oh great, we've been bounced by the Drill Team!" 

"Timmy!" Black said over the radio, Hunter could hear the cheerfulness in his voice "Timothy!" Decker said with equal glee "You're late!" Hunter ignored the verbal barb; "My name is Tim. Timmy is a kid with an all day sucker, and Timothy is some English aristocrat" 

"Whatever, our orders were to identify just what you guys were and to report back" said Black "So just sit tight for a while" "And if you move, we'll blow you out of the sky!" Decker said with a bad Spanish accent "DECKER!!!" screamed JC, Hunter and Black 

************************************************************************* 

"Incoming transmission from Rapier oh-six" said the airman that was manning communications "The unknown contacts have been visually identified as Whisper oh-one and Black Stallion oh-one" "Have Rapier oh-six and oh-seven escort both aircraft in and have emergency vehicles standing by along with three security teams" "Roger that" 

Throughout the base, crews scrambled to their posts, sirens wailed as emergency vehicles headed towards Dreamland's auxiliary runway. 

"Sir! I'm getting a second transmission" the airman reported "It's from Whisper oh-one" "Put it on speakers" 

"Ghostrider from Voodoo one" Came Hunter's voice "Requesting flyby" The airman looked at Drybeck, who shook his head. "Uh.. Negative Ghostrider, the flight pattern is full" 

Drybeck's brow furrowed as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Why on earth would an experienced pilot use such a wrong callsign? It sounded like something from a B-Grade movie. 

His eyes widened in surprise - it was a line from a B-Grade movie, and after that line was delivered... Drybeck hurriedly drank his lukewarm coffee. 

************************************************************************* 

"Well, it's done" "Hunter, please tell me that you're not serious" "JC, I'm serious" 

Hunter broke formation and headed directly for Dreamland's control tower leaving JC, Black and Decker loitering behind. 

Hunter levelled his speed at 450 mph, he only wanted to rattle a few windows, not shatter them. At this speed he would be in visual range of the control tower in three seconds and past it in four. 

"Hunter, you are not cleared for this manoeuvre" said JC "So?" "You can't just..." 

JC's argument came just a few seconds too late as Hunter passed the tower. He imagined that there would be at least one person who wouldn't have caught his movie reference and would now have to change uniform. 

Turning after his flyby, Hunter saw JC being 'escorted' by Black and Decker. Shutting down his porthole generator and activating his Anti-Gravity drive, Hunter moved into formation with his wingman and continued to be 'escorted' by the two F-16's. 

"Major, you and the Flight Lieutenant are directed to land on runway two alpha" "Hey, Decker" asked Hunt "where's two alpha?" "It's the one with all the emergency service vehicles on it!" "Oh.. I knew that!" 

Hunter proceeded to hover as JC touched down in front of the many Fire engines, paramedical units and about twenty air police. "I told you that you weren't cleared for that manoeuvre!" said JC as he saw the size of the reception committee that was armed. 

"No shit, boss" replied Hunter. Behind him Black and Decker landed distracting some of the air police. "You'd better apologise!" said Black "Or we blow you into the sky!" said Decker in his bad Spanish accent 

Hunter opened the canopy of his Raptor; he knew that he had to face the music about his transformation sooner or later. 

Releasing the canopy's internal latches, Hunter let the Raptor's hydraulic system open the canopy for him. Reaching with both paws, he removed his flight mask and raised his visor. 

The Air police cocked their M-16's at the sight of the creature. Nervously Hunter swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. 

"Uh... I come in peace?" 

************************************************************************* To be continued.... 

"Remember T-Bone, when the pin is pulled, Mr Grenade is not our friend" "Gotcha!" 


	5. Touchdown

Greetings to all fans of the Swat Kats. This is my Fith fanfic. Please note this in any flames that you send. A few points to remember. 1) Swat Kats: The Radical Squadron is owned by Hanna Barberra. Which in turn is owned by Ted Turner, the same man who has just merged with AOL! 2) I own Tim Hunt and associated characters. Please inform me if you wish to use them 3) As Tim Hunt is an Australian, he pronounces some words differently. For example Lieutenant is pronounced as _LEFT_tenant and his rank would be Flight LEFTtenant. 4) All flames and praise can be sent to Mark Johnson at 

Touchdown By Mark Johnson 

The room was relatively small, but well lit. This surprised Tim; he was expecting a bare room with only a single light bulb. Instead he was delivered into a room designed for interrogation. 

Furnished with a desk, a half a dozen or so chairs and a video camera, the room was not luxurious by any standards, but Tim suspected that it would serve the purpose that it was designed for. 

He paced - step step step turn, step step step turn. The waiting was driving him crazy. Through a gap in the door he heard footsteps approaching. He sat down in the chair at the far end of the room. 

From his position he could see through the glass partition in the door and the two air police standing guard. The same two had been there since he and his wingman Major Callen were detained after their return to Dreamland. 

The door opened and Tim looked up expecting to see the local representative from the CIA; instead he looked into the cool blue eyes of the base commander. Tim stood at attention as General Drybeck stared at him. 

"I didn't believe it when they told me," said Drybeck "And quite frankly I still don't" Tim remained silent, he had only said the one phrase when he landed and hadn't said a word since. 

"Your friend claims that you are my missing pilot. What have you got to say about that?" Tim continued to stare straight ahead, his gaze unwavering, his breathing even and his mouth closed 

"What's wrong, mister?" asked Drybeck "Cat got your tongue?" "No, Sir!" "Then who are you?" "I am Flight Lieutenant Tim Hunt" "Flight Lieutenant Hunt is missing, try again" 

"I am Flight Lieutenant Tim Hunt of the Royal Australian Air Force!" Tim asserted "What makes you say that?" Drybeck replied, raising his voice "What is this? A philosophy exam?" "Of a sort. Unless you can prove yourself to my satisfaction you will disappear" 

There was a knock at the door. Drybeck turned and saw three people through the glass partition; he motioned them in. "This is Major Allen Hall," said Drybeck, indicating to the taller of the two men, "and Captain Heather Mackenzie from Intelligence. You should know Kit Dwyer from Psych" 

Tim nodded as the trio entered the room and proceeded to make themselves comfortable. "Please sit down," said Hall. "We're here to ask you a few questions. Just take your time and answer when you're ready" "Would you like something to drink?" asked Mackenzie "Coffee? Tea? Er... milk?" "Thank you, but no" replied Tim as he sat down. 

"How did you get into Flight Lieutenant Hunt's aircraft?" asked Hall. "I opened the canopy and stepped in." "Where was the aircraft when you opened the canopy." "It was on the ground." 

"You have an interesting accent," said Mackenzie. "Where did you learn to speak our language?" "I could say the same to you, Captain. However, my parents taught me their language, like all parents do. Even yours" "Can you speak any other languages?" "Yes" "What ones?" "A few European languages, some from Asia and the subcontinent and a couple from the Middle East. I also speak a couple of regional dialects." 

said Hall in Russian  replied Tim, using the same tongue [How old are you?] asked Mackenzie in Japanese [I'm twenty-nine] {I don't believe this!} said Hall in German {Neither do I!} ~Is he for real~ Mackenzie asked Hall in Spanish ~Yes I am~ Tim replied, before Hall could open his mouth. ~Did you know that your Spanish has a Californian accent? ~ 

In the glass in the door, Tim saw the reflection of Dwyer making notes. 'Bloody shrinks; always scribbling!' he thought. 

"Where are your parents now?" Mackenzie continued, reverting to English. "Deceased." "I'm sorry. Any brothers or sisters?" "I had a brother." "Had?" "Also deceased." 

"Where did you learn how to fly Hunt's aircraft?" asked Hall. "Here." "Here?" "Yes, here; this place; Area 51; Dreamland." "When did this happen?" "June this year." "What year is it?" "It is the year 1999." 

"Did you always want to be a pilot?" asked Mackenzie. "Not really," said Tim thoughtfully. "It depended on what was popular that week." "Popular?" "Whatever made the news - you know, Heart surgeon, formula one driver, even a fireman rescuing little kitty cats that have been stuck up a tree." 

Hall leaned forward. "You say that you learned to fly Hunt's aircraft at this airbase. When did you last take-off?" "Seven days ago at 0900 hours." "And where did you fly?" "My flight plan was to fly over SAM site Beta, through canyon Echo 5 and ending up on the missile range." "So, where did you fly?" 

Tim blinked, it was the most reaction that he had shown since the interview began. "Ah.. Good question," said Tim. "Do you want the truth or a plausible lie?" 

Behind Tim, Drybeck suffered a fit of coughing; the creature was using similar smart alec remarks and one liners to his missing pilot; pity it didn't look like his missing pilot. 

"We're just here to find out what happened," Mackenzie said. "What ever you say won't leave this room." "And if I tell you what has happened, I'll be in a rubber room!" "We understand that this has been a very traumatic experience for you, but we want to help." "What makes you think that I require help?" "You are the only one of your kind on this planet; there are many other people who would not be as understanding as we are being." 

Tim's eyes momentary narrowed, then resumed their normal appearance. "What would you know about traumatic experiences, Captain?" asked Tim. "I've had a couple," Mackenzie replied. 

To Tim, something wasn't right; a slight odour had suddenly emanated from the captain, that combined with some subtle body language convinced Tim that she was lying, but considered against telling her this little tidbit of information. 

"Major, Captain," Drybeck's voice sounded from behind Tim, "I believe a short recess is in order." 

Both Hall and Mackenzie nodded and stood. From behind, Tim could also hear Drybeck and Dwyer stand and lead the two interrogators from the room and down the hall. "I would advise you to be careful," Dwyer said as soon as they had gotten out of range of Tim's hearing. "The subject is not responding to any pattern that I can recognise and I cannot predict its actions." 

"The trouble is that we have a being in there that has convinced three separate pilots that he is Tim Hunt," said Hall. "He even talked to Major Callen face-to-face and he is convinced that the creature is Tim Hunt." 

"That's what bothers me," replied Drybeck. "Callen is my best pilot and it was his recommendation that brought Hunt to this project; it is very unlikely that his judgment would be so drastically effected." 

"Mind control?" suggested Mackenzie. "Drugs, hypnosis, power of suggestion?" "I haven't received the results from the lab yet," said Drybeck, "but the preliminary report is negative." 

"How well did Callen know Hunt?" asked Hall. "From all reports, fairly well" replied Drybeck. "They've gone head-to-head a few times in the past but have always been there when the other needed help." "What type of help?" Hall asked. "Money, drugs, gambling debts?" 

"Callen's wife went into labour while he was in Australia on exercise," began Drybeck. "Hunt got permission from his Wing Commander to take an F-111C direct to Sydney. En route, he arranged and payed for a business class seat on a Qantas flight to Los Angeles." 

"You're kidding!" said an outraged Hall. "Nobody does that!" "I hadn't finished, Major," Drybeck said calmly. "When Callen had touched down at LAX wearing nothing but his flight suit and carrying his helmet and gloves, he was escorted to a private jet and flown to Colorado Springs. From there a helio took him to the hospital." 

"Sir, do you know what happened to Callen's wife?" Mackenzie asked. Drybeck broke into a huge grin. "She gave birth to a healthy baby girl just after Callen landed at Colorado Springs. They named her after Hunt's brother." "Sounds romantic. Who arranged the private jet and helio?" "Probably Hunt," replied Drybeck. "All that Callen knows is that they were waiting for him at both airports." 

"Can we ask the subject about what happened?" Dwyer asked. "We know what happened, we can use this information as a baseline to determine its reactions." "That's fine," said Hall, "except for the fact that we are not sure that the creature is Hunt." 

"What information has Major Callen given us?" Drybeck asked. "Anything we can use?" "Only that he believes that the creature is Flight Lieutenant Hunt." "On what did he base that?" Dwyer asked. "On anecdotal evidence; Callen was satisfied on the story that he was told," replied Hall. 

"According to Callen, Hunt spoke Russian," Mackenzie said, "Hunt's file states only that he speaks English and German." "Is it possible that he learned other languages and didn't tell anybody?" Hall asked. "Hunt's psychological profile suggests that he wouldn't mention anything personal, unless directly asked." "Is it just me," began Hall, "or does any of this remind you of tall, blonde and furry inside?" 

The three Air Force officers ran towards the interrogation room where Tim was waiting. Flashing their passes at the two guards, they burst into the room to be met with a bored looking kat. 

"Who the HELL are you?" thundered Drybeck as he stormed to the desk where Tim was sitting. Bored, Tim looked into Drybeck's eyes and said, "You know who I am." "You're a duck in a chicken suit!" "No, I'm a kat in a flight suit!" "GUARDS!!!" 

The two air police entered the room and stood just inside the door. "Escort the prisoner to the cells!" Drybeck said to the air police who roughly grabbed Tim's arms to lead him out of the room. "Use extreme caution; it can be very dangerous!" 

In response to Drybeck's statement, Tim struggled against the guards' treatment of him, starting by punching his first assailant in the gut, causing him to double over and gasp for breath. 

The second guard met with Tim's elbow, causing blood to spill from his nose. As Tim was about to strike the first guard on his unprotected neck, the guard punched Tim's knee, making him lose any height advantage he had and preventing him from completing his blow. 

Seeing that the creature was on the ground, the second guard attempted to kick it in the ribs but was prevented by the creature grabbing his foot in mid stride and delivering a powerful blow to his groin. 

Swinging with his left paw, Tim backhanded the first guard across his face, sending him backward onto his butt. Righting himself, Tim turned to fight the second guard but saw that he was still on the floor, clutching his groin. Quickly, as not to lose his advantage, Tim turned and faced the first guard when he felt something very hard smash against his back. 

Stumbling, he took a single step before falling on top of the first guard, who was picking himself up off the floor. Drybeck looked at the remains of the chair in his hands, the pieces of wood on the floor and the splinters on the creature's back. 

"Restrain it," Drybeck told the guard. "Get it into a cell anyway you can and get you friend down to medical!" 

Tim felt himself being rolled; with a titanic show of strength, he grabbed the breast pocket of the guard that he was being rolled off in his right paw and delivered a quick left cross with the other. 

Drybeck picked up a second chair and idly examined the finish of the wood. "I wonder if you can survive another one." "Another one what, sir?" Tim grunted as he tried to stand. "Another chair!" Drybeck said. "Now be a good kitty and lie down quietly." "I can live with that!" Tim said as he felt his arms give way beneath him. 

Within seconds, Tim felt his paws being shackled behind him. He was fortunate that the guards were a little too punch-drunk to search his paws; if they had they would have found the pen lid that he stole from the first guard, when he punched him, palmed off in his right paw. 

"We've got to talk about this, General," Tim said over his shoulder as he was being led down the hallway away from the interrogation room. "Oh, we will." 

Tim was silent as he was half marched/half dragged to the detention cells. Stopping in front of an empty cell in the middle, Tim's restraints were released and he stepped into the cell, but not across the threshold. 

"Sorry about that fight before," Tim said, turning. "Step back, prisoner!" the guard replied. 

'Obviously not a cat person,' Tim thought as he stepped back and to the left, readying the purloined pen lid. As the cell door was shut, Tim jammed the lid into the locking mechanism; allowing the cell door to remain shut while at the same time giving Tim a means of escape at anytime. 

**************************************************************************** 

"Was there any reason for that, General?" Dwyer asked after the creature was escorted away in handcuffs. "Tell that to the two guards it assaulted!" "That's not what I meant," Dwyer said. "Why did you provoke it?" "To see if I could get a reaction out of it." "And?" "I got one!" 

Drybeck walked in the opposite direction to that the creature was taken and towards another interrogation room. In that room sat a human, a major in the United States Air Force, a major in the first stages of debriefing. 

"...So then he hands me his empty magazine with the box of bullets and walks off with out a word!" Callen said, taking a sip of his coffee. "Nice guy," his interrogator said. "Where did he go?" "Not too sure. I think he went to talk to the Commander." 

The room fell silent as Drybeck entered; both Callen and his interrogator stood at attention. With a curt nod from Drybeck, they both relaxed. "Sir," said Callen. "What's happening with my wingman?" 

Drybeck was about to cite 'national security', 'need to know' and, his personal favourite, 'that's classified' when he saw the concern in Callen's eyes. "I can't say too much, Major," Drybeck began. "But, at this time, things are looking favourable." 

Callen thanked the general as Drybeck sat down. Resuming his seat, Callen looked towards the rest of the debrief team with a gleam in his eyes. 

Callen's interrogator looked through his notes. "Is that Commander Feral or Steele?" "Feral; Steele was shot before." "Where was Steel shot?" "In the hangar." 

The interrogator gave a small chuckle. "I meant where on his body?" "Left thigh." "And Hunt shot him?" "Yeah, he put two rounds into Steele's leg." 

"What did you do after Hunt gave you the bullets?" "I refilled both magazines before he called me over to where he was speaking to Commander Feral." "Why did he do that?" "He needed my map of the canyon to help plot his course," said Callen. "We agreed that we would reverse our original course." 

"Did you know the risks of such a manoeuvre?" Drybeck asked. "I did and Hunt explained them to the others that were there." Again the interrogator looked through his notes. "And that was T-Bone, Razor and Commander Feral?" "That's right." "Where was the lieutenant?" "We found her later by the F-22." 

"What was she doing there?" Drybeck asked, concerned that somebody could have sabotaged one of his aircraft. "She was...," Callen paused, unsure of his wording. "...Stroking it." "Say again, Major." "Closer to petting it, sir." 

Drybeck rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Let me get this straight," he began. "Some alien she-furball got close enough to a multi-million dollar top-secret test aircraft to pet it?" "Yes, sir." "And nobody thought that this was a little bit unusual?" "Not at the time, sir. She is a pilot and Hunt trusted her." "Good grief." 

And the debrief continued. 

***************************************************************************** 

As the day progressed, Tim waited for the right time to make his move. Uneaten, his meals were returned to the guards. When night came, Tim knew that soon he would be able to make his escape. 

But escape wasn't his plan; on this night his plan was simply to talk - talk to the one person who seemed to know more than what he was telling. A person who would have such high security surrounding him that it would be nearly impossible to get near him. 

Tim loved a challenge. 

Bed-check was done every three hours; Tim heard footsteps approaching, although he didn't have his watch, Tim assumed that it was about nine o'clock and that the lights would be turned out. After that the next bed-check would be at midnight. Between then and three am, he had to escape, talk, and if all went well, return. 

As Tim had assumed, the lights were turned off; mentally he began a countdown. He knew that the next check was in three hours, but he allowed himself ten minutes leeway in case the next check was a little early. 

Tim had noticed that the door to his cell squeaked when it was opened. To prevent this he spat on the door hinges to lubricate them. When a sufficient amount of saliva coated the hinges, Tim allowed the doors to swing open. 

Tim watched the door where the guard was stationed. Using the same instincts that house cats use when stalking mice, Tim stealthily crept towards the guards' station. Without warning the guard began to turn. In the darkened corridor, Tim froze. 

Satisfied that nothing was happening, the guard turned back to whatever had his attention. Tim continued to creep, his eyes fixed on the guard, wary in case he might have to freeze again. 

Metres away the guard took a sip of his coffee. Tim's nose wrinkled in disgust; no matter where in the world he went, military coffee was the same - bad! Tim was now behind the guard when the phone rang. 

"Detention, Airman Peters" the guard said as the other voice on the line spoke. "The prisoner, sir? Not a word sir." Again Peters was silent as the other party spoke. "Yes, sir. I just checked on it. Very good, sir!" 

Peters placed the phone back on its cradle. "Brass must think I'm incompetent!" he muttered. "I wouldn't go that far!" Tim said. 

Peters turned and reached for his sidearm as Tim delivered a left cross to his jaw knocking Peters off of his chair and into a forced slumber. 

Tim looked around. As a general rule, posts were manned by two people. Airman Peters' companion was noticeably absent. Wasting no time, Tim ran towards the only exit from the detention area. 

And right into Peters' companion. 

Basic Airman Aaron Robinson was returning with fresh coffee for himself and Peters when he walked into a large creature running in the opposite direction. Robinson tried to cry out for help but was cut off when the creature grabbed his throat. 

'That solves the companion problem,' thought Tim as he grabbed the throat of the Airman that he had run into. Squeezing the Airman's throat, Tim used his free hand to put pressure on the Airman's carotid artery, making him blackout. 

Tim gently lowered the unconscious form of Airman Robinson to the floor. Ignoring Robinson's sidearm still in its holster, Tim continued to run out of the detention area. 

Nearby Corporal Graeme Newman was patrolling with Airman Kirby Grant. Newman was showing Grant, who had just transferred to the night shift and was on his first patrol, what to look and listen for. 

Ahead, the door of an office supply cabinet was slightly ajar. Newman drew his sidearm and indicated the door to Grant, who nodded and also drew his sidearm. Cautiously they approached; Newman took up position slightly to the side of the door while Grant stood by to pull the door open. 

When Newman gave the signal, Grant gave a pull on the door and it opened to reveal... Nothing. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Newman put away his sidearm and closed the cabinet door. "That, son" Newman said, as he locked the cabinet door, "is someone being careless. But it could also have been an intruder and you have to be on the lookout for anything out of place." 

Tim listened in on the conversation between Newman and Grant from a safe distance. It was an old trick when dealing with assessment - leave something for someone to find. That way the assessors relax slightly and miss other little faults. 

As Newman and Grant continued their patrol, Tim came out from around the corner where he was hiding. Eyeing the progress of the two security personnel, Tim stealthily moved in the opposite direction towards the bachelor officers quarters. 

Quarters were arranged by rank. Tim being a Flight Lieutenant, was toward the lower end of the scale, while his target was at the extreme opposite. Treading softly, Tim noticed that several of the lights where on and paid special caution when near them. 

When Tim reached Drybeck's door, he noticed that there was light coming from beneath the door. Drybeck's was awake! 

Steeling himself, Tim knocked at the door. "Who is it?" Drybeck answered. "Major Callen, sir" Tim said, mimicking Callen's voice and accent. "Enter!" 

Tim did as he was bid and entered Drybeck's quarters, shutting the door behind him. The General was sitting at his desk, reading over a report, and did not look up as Tim entered. "What's on your mind, Major?" he asked. "It's about Flight Lieutenant Hunt, sir," Tim answered, keeping up the charade of being Callen. 

Drybeck stiffened slightly. Only a few hours ago Callen had asked a similar question. "You took your time getting here, Delta Two-Nine," said Drybeck, playing a hunch. "Who's that?" Tim said, returning to his normal voice. "I read your file, mister. I know who you are and what you did." "Information like that isn't in my file." 

Drybeck turned around and gave a wry smile, "It's in your other file." Tim reached to his left hip for his sidearm, and found it missing. 'Stupid, should of taken one of the guards guns,' he thought. 'Now what?" 

"What other file, sir?" Tim questioned. "Oh, you know," Drybeck answered. "The one that fills in all the blanks in your life." "How did you get it?" "Apparently, someone thought I needed to know." 

"Now what?" "Sit down, make yourself comfortable, and tell me what happened." "This could take some time, sir." "I'm not going anywhere." 

Tim took a deep breath. "After entering the canyon, I ran into what I thought was a weather anomaly. I passed through it and ended up in another place looking like this," Tim said, indicating his current form. 

"Where did you end up?" "This is where it becomes complicated, sir. The place is called MegaKat City; that is spelt kilo-alpha-tango, sir. It seems to be a parallel universe where the big cats evolved into the dominant life-form instead of the apes." 

"What happened when you got there?" "I was unconscious when I first arrived, sir. When I came to, I was being examined by two of the world's inhabitants. I was still in the cockpit of my aircraft." "Did you crash?" "No, sir. I was pulled out of the sky by a hook, sir." "A skyhook?" "No, sir. More like a grappling hook." 

"Who was examining you?" "T-Bone and Razor, sir. They're similar to Batman and Robin in their activities - consider them unsanctioned law enforcers." "So they're friendly?" "Yes, sir. They are." 

"When T-Bone and Razor examined you, what were they looking for?" "General injuries, sir. Cuts, abrasions, breaks, lumps and bumps." "Did they know you were different?" "Not until after we reached their hangar, sir." "What happened then?" "I remained calm and explained what had happened to me." 

"How did you remain calm?" Tim raised an eyebrow. "I thought you read my file, sir." "I did, and I still don't understand." Tim's ear twitched in amusement. "Good." 

"What happened after T-Bone and Razor examined you?" "They kind-of adopted me, sir. They introduced me to a friend of theirs who developed the device that allowed Major Callen and me to return to this dimension." 

"Is that the short version?" Drybeck asked. "Yes, sir. It is." Drybeck checked his watch. "You have less than an hour to make it back to your cell without being seen. You'd better get going." 

Tim was about to reply when a klaxon sounded throughout the base. "I was meaning to tell you, sir. It wasn't a clean escape. I had to knock out two guards." "They're awake now!" said Drybeck, picking up the phone and punching out a number. He listened for a moment before instructing, "Concentrate the search around the hangars, the motor pool and in the direction of Las Vegas." 

Turning back to Tim, Drybeck smiled. "I'll call off the search in half an hour. Try to be back in your cell by then. Dismissed." "Yes, sir" Tim said as he saluted and left. 

Fortunately, as the base personnel scrambled to their posts, they flowed towards the major nerve centres of the base. At a glance, Tim realised that the direct route to his cells was out of the question. 

The only option was to take an indirect route through the canteen. This pleased him. After missing lunch and dinner, a detour through the canteen was a welcomed diversion. 

Entering the canteen was extremely easy. Visually scanning the room, Tim noticed that it was empty of personnel. Foodstuffs were placed in storage for the night, and utensils had been placed in their drawers. 

Tim opened the first cupboard that he came across. It was filled with powdered goods. Grimacing, he went to the next cupboard; this one was filled with bulk sized cans mixed with smaller cans of C-Rations. 

Tim selected one of the small cans at random and examined its label. 'Tuna. I would have preferred salmon,' Tim thought as he read the label, 'but a Kat's got to eat.' 

Next, Tim spied the cold-room. He licked his lips, anticipating what would be inside. As he continued his scan of the canteen, he reached for the latch to open the cold-room's massive door. 

With a small grunt, he pulled the cold-room door open, releasing a wave of chilled air and mist. Peering into the man-made fog, an object caught his attention. 

'Milk!' Tim thought as he reached for an empty half-gallon container into which to ladle the contents of the bulk milk. 'Just the thing for a thirsty Kat'. Closing the cold-room door behind him, Tim hurriedly made his way back to his cell. 

Fifteen minutes later the alert was called off. The klaxons ceased their howl and personnel returned to their quarters for the night. And Tim quietly ate his tuna and drank his milk while sitting in his cell. 

***************************************************************************** 

The next morning, Tim was marched back to the original interrogation room where Major Hall, Captain Mackenzie and Kit Dwyer were waiting. Major Callen was quietly standing off to one side. "Apparently, during your excursion last night," began Hall, "you managed to convince General Drybeck of your identity. Unfortunately, you needed to convince me." 

"And how do I do that?" Tim asked. "Just answer one, simple, little question." "And what would that be?" "Simple. Who is," Hall paused for dramatic effect, "Paul Keating?" 

For a brief second, Tim's heart stopped. What sort of question was that? Was he thinking of the same Paul Keating as Hall? What were his answers supposed to sound like? 

Tim started by taking a deep breath. "What would you like to know?" he asked. 

"Everything that you know," Hall answered. 

"Paul Keating," Tim began. "Born in the January of 1944, became the 25th Prime Minister of Australia in December of 1991. Left formal education at 14 and joined the Australian Labor Party at 15. Elected to the House of Representatives in 1969 at the age of 25." 

Casually glancing at Hall, Tim sought some sign that he was on the right track. Finding none, he continued. 

"From 1975 to 1983, he had various posts in the shadow cabinet until Labor won the 1983 election and he became Deputy Prime Minister under Prime Minister Hawke, also serving as Treasurer. He became Prime Minister in 199x. Would you like me to tell you of his time as Treasurer of Australia, or how about his time as Prime Minister?" 

"Let's hear about his time as Prime Minister," Hall sneered. 

"As Prime Minister, he continued micro and macro economic reforms, resulting in substantial economic growth. He strengthened political and economic ties with a number of Asian nations. He advocated an Australian republic. He resigned from politics after Labor suffered a massive defeat in the 1996 poll. 

"Now, would you like to hear about his liking for fine Italian suits?" Tim snapped his fingers. "I know; you want to know about his collection of antique clocks and timepieces. He's considered to be quite knowledgable in the field, you know." 

"Who's Hawke, again?" Callen asked. 

"My fellow Australians," Tim began, in a voice reminiscent of an old motor cycle, a fair imitation of the former Prime Minister of Australia. 

"Oh, yeah. That's right," said Callen. 

"Gentlemen!" Hall said in a tone that implied that he was using the term loosely. "This is neither the time, nor the place, to have a political discussion on a former head of a foreign state!" 

"JC, how about we continue this in your quarters in about 15 minutes?" "Sounds good. How about you bring some of your tea with you?" 

Hall was outraged. The creature had taken a standard debunking session and turned it into a circus. "This is an interrogation!" Hall cried, "not the Boston Tea Party!" "Would it help if we threw you overboard?" Tim said deadpan. 

"Listen, Furball," Hall said, pointing a finger at Tim, "I've had just about enough of you!" 

"Good," Tim replied as he grabbed Hall's finger in his right paw, pulling it towards him, causing Hall's body to follow his wayward finger. With his left paw, he partially extended his claws and rammed them into the soft skin of Hall's throat. 

"If I extend my claws, nothing that you say or do could stop me from ripping your throat out," Tim growled. "Now, are you satisfied with my identity?" "Ugh," Hall gurgled. "Good, now leave!" growled Tim as he released his grip on Hall's throat and tossed him back several feet. 

Hall rubbed his neck. Feeling a slight dampness, he looked at his hand and saw that it was smeared with his own blood. Furious, he was about to call for the guards when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

"Major, your work here is done," said Callen in a firm voice that brooked no argument. Hall looked to Dwyer for support, but was met with the psychiatrist's steely gaze. Hall then tried to appeal to his partner but Tim cut him off as soon as he opened his mouth. 

"JC, shut him up or shut him down," said Tim. "I don't care which." Callen merely opened the door and unceremoniously shoved Hall through. "Anybody else?" Tim asked, eyeing Mackenzie. 

Dwyer stood up, straightened his tie and made his way to the door. Facing Tim after opening the door Dwyer said, "I expect you to make an appointment so that we can talk about this soon, Flight Lieutenant." 

Callen snickered when he saw Tim's ears and tail partially droop. "Hunt, I want a full and complete report on my desk by the end of the week," said Mackenzie, standing to follow Dwyer. "And then we'll go over every minute little detail together. After that you are going to Medical for as many tests as they can think up!" 

Tim's tail was now touching the ground. Callen burst into laughter at the sight of his dejected wingman being totally lost for words and actions. "C'mon, Tim," he said as he stood in the threshold of the door. "I'll buy you a milkshake!" 

"Thanks, Jade," replied Tim as he moved to follow Callen into the hallway and past Major Hall. "Hey, Furball!" called Hall as he marched towards the two pilots. "Where do you think you're going?" 

Tim casually turned and waited until Hall was within arms length. When Hall was close enough, Tim's arm shot out at a blinding speed and connected with Hall's jaw. 

The Intelligence Major collapsed like he had been hit by a truck. "Do you think the canteen can make a strawberry shake?" ***************************************************************************** 

To be continued... 

"High explosives, cool!" 


End file.
